The Basalisk Fangs:A Collection of Missing Moments
by spuffyfan22
Summary: A Collection of Missing Moments between Ron and Hermione throughout the course of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Obviously, there are spoilers. Enjoy!
1. Wedding Preparations

The Basilisk Fangs: A Collection of Missing Moments

Summary: A collection of Missing Moments between Ron and Hermione throughout the Deathly Hallows.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but work like a house elf.

IMPORTANT: PLEASE REVIEW THIS CHAPTER BY REVIEWING CHAPTER 2, BECAUSE IF YOU HAVE ALREADY REVIEWED SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS, IT WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO REVIEW THIS ONE. BECAUSE I CHANGED THE ORDER AROUND.

Author's Note: Wow thank you for all the reviews! I checked my email this morning and I had 45 emails! I loved hearing what everyone thought of the book, and I pretty much agree with all of you. While Ron and Hermione definitely had their moments, I think we could have had some more after waiting 6 books. We didn't get to see any confessions of love or meaningful talks like I thought we would, and I thought that they would kiss closer to the beginning than the end. I mapped out all the missing moments I plan to do and there should be about 12. (And to Weasleyismiking, there will definitely be one in the Chamber of Secrets) So I'm switching the order up a bit, and this will be the first chapter, since it came before thanks everyone! Anyways, here is the next chapter:

_Chapter One: Wedding Preparations_

"We must decide 'ow you will be disguised 'Arry," said Fleur, while everyone was tucking into their pudding around the Burrow's kitchen table. 'For ze wedding," she added. "Of course none of our guests are Death Eaters but we can not guarantee zat zey will not let something slip once they 'ave 'ad champagne."

Ron and Hermione caught each other's eye. Obviously she still expected Hagrid.

"Yes, good point," said Mrs. Weasley from the top of the table where she sat, spectacles perched on the end of her nose, scanning an immense list of jobs that she had scribbled on a very long piece of parchment. Harry, Ron and Hermione had a feeling of what was coming next; the designation of jobs. This seemed to have become a daily ritual at the Burrow, and Ron doubted whether they would have been put under such a strict regime if they hadn't been planning to ditch school and look for the horcruxes. A further drawback of this, was that he was not only separated from Harry, but that he had little time to spend with Hermione, who was often instructed to do one of the more gender appropriate "household chores". Ron dug his spoon into his apple tart bitterly.

"Now Ron, have you cleaned out your room yet?"

"_Why?_" exclaimed Ron, slamming his spoon down and glaring at his mother. "Why does my room have to be cleaned out? Harry and I are fine with the way it is!"

Mrs. Weasley was turning a shade of trade marked Weasley red, "We are holding your brother's wedding here in a few days' time, young man-"

"Are they getting married in my bedroom?" asked Ron furiously. "No! So why in the name of Merlin's saggy left-"

"Don't you talk to your mother like that," said Mr. Weasley firmly. "And do as you're told."

Ron scowled at both his parents, then picked up his spoon and attacked the last few mouthfuls of apple tart.

"I can help, some of it's my mess," Harry told Ron, and for a split second Ron felt mildly happier, before Mrs. Weasley cut across him and said, "No Harry dear, I'd much rather you helped Arthur muck out the chickens." Mrs. Weasley took another bite of apple tart, giving Ron hopes that she didn't have any jobs for Hermione to do today.

"And Hermione," she finished swallowing, "I'd be ever so grateful if you'd change the sheets for Madame and Monsieur Delacour, you know they're arriving at eleven tomorrow."

Hermione nodded diligently, and Ron was surprised to see a small smile playing on her lips. What was so great about changing sheets?

Harry excused himself from the table and set out through the back yard; headed for the chicken coop. Ron angrily pushed back his chair and stormed off upstairs to his attic bedroom without a backwards glance at his mother.

He slammed the door to his room and surveyed the damage. Aside from the unmade beds and contents of both Harry's and his trunks strewn across the floor, the room didn't look that bad. All the same, Ron wasn't feeling particularly keen about rearranging it all. He kicked a box of chocolate frog cards aside and picked up a pink book lying open on the floor. _Twelve Fail Safe Ways to Charm Witches. _Ron sat down on the end of his bed and began flipping through it, the task of cleaning his room completely forgotten. Only when a small knock came at the door was he brought back to his senses.

"Who is it?" he said savagely, expecting his mother to give him another list of chores to complete once he had 'finished up here'.

"It's me," said Hermione's voice. Ron's heart raced as he looked for a hiding place for the book. He eventually stashed it under the bed, which was a difficult enough task in itself, as most of his belongings were already occupying the small space.

"Er, come in," said Ron, now holding his hand gingerly. Something had bit him under the bed. Hermione entered carrying a large pile of books and with her ginger cat Crookshanks at her heels.

"I thought you were supposed to be changing the sheets."

"And I thought you were supposed to be cleaning your room," said Hermione peeling a sock off a nearby lamp shade and wrinkling her nose.

"Yeah well…" Ron said flopping down on his bed.

"Your mom forgot she already asked Ginny and me to clean the sheets yesterday," she offered as an explanation. Hermione unloaded the books in the corner of his room, underneath a large poster of the Chudley Cannons. Hermione then sat down beside them, and winced slightly. She reached behind her and pulled out what appeared to be a pair of broken Omnioculars which were lurking under one of Ron's jumpers.

Ron blushed and grabbed them from her outstretched hand, chucking them in a rubbish bin. Ron wondered how casually he could sit down beside her, the bed seeming too far of a distance to put between them. He decided that sitting down to pick through a pile of clothing on the floor wouldn't be too incriminating.

As it turned out the majority of the clothing was Harry's, and he hurled them into the laundry bin across the room.

"That reminds me," said Hermione, looking up from her book, "I've just finished putting a load of your underwear in the wash." Ron blushed crimson and started fiddling with a tassel on one of his old jumpers that his mom had made for him when he was 12. Hermione smirked to herself. Ron threw the jumper aside, which was immediately pounced upon by a lurking Crookshanks. He watched, amused, for a moment as the cat poked its paw into the pockets, undoubtedly checking to see if Ron had got a new rat in his absence.

"What did you get Bill and Fleur for their wedding present?" Hermione asked, picking up

_Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles._

"A lunascope, it'll help Bill keep track of the phases of the moon, you?"

"I got them a copy of _Enchantment in Baking_," replied Hermione.

"Bet Bill will love that," Ron chuckled.

"No more than Fleur will love being able to keep track of the moon," said Hermione waspishly.

Crookshanks had now curled up at Hermione's feet and was purring contentedly. Ron reached out a hand to scratch behind the his ear and in a split second Crookshanks had bolted up, swiped at Ron's hand and was not spitting, back arched.

"Oh, poor Crookshanks," Hermione crooned, stroking his head. Crookshanks gave a smug look to Ron who was now trying to wrap his hand in his shirt, which was bleeding profusely.

"Sodding cat," Ron muttered. Hermione turned as though to tell him off for upsetting Crookshanks, but the words died in her mouth and she saw Ron clutching his hand to him.

"Oh Ron, I'm sorry!" she said reaching for his hand. At first Ron thought that she was going to hold it, but then she pulled out her wand and muttered 'Episkey' and the skin stretched back over the claw marks, healing his hand. Ron muttered thanks, but thought to himself a kiss would have made it better just as well.

Crookshanks had stalked off across the room, envious of the attention Hermione was now doling out on Ron.

"You must have caught him by surprise, he's normally not like that," Hermione explained, her forehead creased. Ron nodded in agreement, but couldn't help to think back to their third year where Crookshanks took every chance he got to torture Ron or Scabbers. Ron heard a noise on the landing and immediately bolted upright, causing Crookshanks to scuttle back over to Hermione and curl up where Ron had just been sitting, staking his territory.

"I'm doing it, I'm doing it!" Ron moaned looking around for something to put in his hand to give the appearance of cleaning. "Oh it's you," said Ron in relief as the door swung open and Harry walked in.

Ron sat down on his bed.

"Hi, Harry," Hermione said as Harry sat down on his camp bed. Ron's relief subsided into anger as he realized that Harry was now intruding on what would have been his alone time with Hermione. Harry also inquired as to why Hermione was here and she gave him the same explanation she had given Ron. Harry stared awkwardly between the two, and raised his eyebrows at Ron, as though asking for an account of what they had been doing up here alone.

"We were just talking about Made-Eye," Ron lied. "I reckon he might have survived." Ron saw Hermione look up from her book and raise her eyebrows.

"But Bill saw him hit by the killing curse," said Harry,

"Yeah, but Bill was under attack too," said Ron. "How can he be sure what he saw?"

"Even if the Killing Curse missed, Mad Eye still fell about a thousand feet," said Hermione, now weighing _Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland_ in her hands.

"He could have used a shield charm-"

"Fleur said his wand was blasted out of his hand," said Harry.

"Well, alright, if you want him to be dead," Ron said grumpily, punching his pillow into a more comfortable shape.

"Of course we don't want him to be dead!" Hermione said looking shocked. "It's dreadful that he's dead! But we're being realistic!"

"The Death Eaters probably tidied up after themselves, that's why no one found him," said Ron wisely, ditching his previous argument, since it conflicted with Hermione's.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Like Barty Crouch, turned into a bone and buried in Hagrid's front garden. They probably transfigured Moody and stuffed him-"

"Don't!" squealed Hermione, who had burst into tears. Ron immediately felt immensely guilty for bringing up Moody and bounded off the bed to comfort her. He heard Harry give a feeble "Oh no, I wasn't trying to upset you," from the camp bed.

Ron wrapped his long arm around her and held her to him. He reached desperately into his back pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. Ashamed to find it covered in dirt and grease from the oven, he muttered 'Tergeo' and hoped Hermione hadn't noticed. Harry had however, and he heard him stifle a laugh. Ron couldn't care less though, as Hermione accepted the handkerchief and sobbed into his shoulder.

"Oh …thanks Ron…I'm sorry …" she blew her nose and hiccoughed. "Its' just so awf-ful isn't it? R-Right after Dumbledore…I j-just n-never imagined Mad Eye dying, somehow he seemed so tough." Ron felt his heart ache to see her like this.

"Yeah, I know," said Ron, giving her a squeeze. "But you'd know what he'd say to us if he were here?"

"C-Constant Vigilance," said Hermione giving a small smile and mopping her eyes at the memory.

"That's right," said Ron, nodding, their foreheads meeting briefly as she turned to look at him. "He'd tell us to learn from what happened to him. And what I've learned is not to trust that cowardly little squirt Mundungus."

Hermione gave a shaky laugh, and Ron felt satisfied that his job was done cheering her up as she leaned forward to pick up two more books. However he was still hesitant to remove his arm from around her shoulders, afraid of losing contact. But at that moment Hermione dropped _The Monster Book of Monsters_ on his foot which took to attempting to bite off Ron's ankle. Cursing, Ron snatched his arm away and tried to jump backwards, but the book was latched tightly onto his ankle.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Hermione cried, as Harry wrenched the book from Ron's leg and tried to shut it.

"What are you doing anyway?" Ron asked, retreating onto his bed.

"Just trying to decide which ones to take with us," said Hermione. "When we're looking for Horcruxes."

"Oh of course!" said Ron, clapping a hand to his forehead. "I forgot we'll be hunting down Voldemort in a mobile library."

"Ha ha," said Hermione, looking down at Spellman's Syllabary. "I wonder…will we need to translate runes? It's possible…I think we better take it to be safe." She dropped it back on the larger pile and picked up Hogwarts: A History.

"Listen," said Harry

He sat up straight. Ron and Hermione looked at him with mixtures of resignation and defiance. "I know you said that after Dumbledore's funeral you wanted to come with me," Harry began.

"Here he goes," Ron said to Hermione, rolling his eyes. They would have been idiots not to expect that Harry would try to persuade them to go back to Hogwarts.

"As we knew he would," Hermione sighed, turning back to the books. "You know, I think I _will_ take Hogwarts: A History. Even if we're not going back there, I don't think I'd feel quite right if I didn't have it with me."

Ron smiled. This was just one of those small things that he found most endearing about Hermione.

"Listen!" said Harry again.

"No, Harry _you_ listen," said Hermione. "We're coming with you, that was decided months ago-years, really.

"But-"

"Shut up," Ron advised him.

"-are you sure you've thought this through?" Harry persisted. Ron knew he was beat before Hermione even gave a retort to his question.

"Let's see," said Hermione, slamming _Travels with Trolls_ on to the discarded pile with a rather fierce look. "I've been packing for days so we're ready to leave at a moment's notice, which for your information has included doing some pretty difficult magic, not to mention smuggling Mad Eye's entire stock of polyjuice potion right under Ron's Mum's nose." Ron knew she had made her point upon seeing the look on Harry's face.

"I've also modified my parent's memories so that they're convinced they're really called Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that their life's ambition is to move to Australia, which they have now done. That's to make it more difficult for Voldemort to track them down and interrogate them about me-or you, because unfortunately I've told them quite a bit about you.

Assuming I survive the hunt for the Horcruxes I'll find mum and dad and lift the enchantment. If I don't- well I think I've cast a good enough charm to keep them safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wilkins don't know they've got a daughter you see," Hermione faltered.

Ron looked up to see her eyes glistening with tears again and leaped off the bed again to put his arm around her. Ron looked reproachfully at Harry, as though he didn't have any tact to get revenge for Harry laughing at his handkerchief earlier.

"I-Hermione, I'm sorry-I didn't-"

"Didn't realize that Ron and I knew perfectly well what might happen if we come with you? Well, we do. Ron, show Harry what you've done."

"Nah, he's just eaten," said Ron, fetching for an excuse not to move from his current position.

"Go on. He needs to know."

Ron seemed to be waging an internal battle on himself. "Oh alright. Harry come here," he sighed. Ron withdrew his arm and stumped over to the door.

The next twenty minutes were spent getting Harry acquainted with the ghoul from attic who had grudgingly been given Ron's form to take on. If anyone inquired as to where Ron was, they were to be shown the ghoul and claim it was Ron who had a highly contagious bout of Spattergroit. After Harry claimed he didn't see a resemblance they moved on to discussing the horcruxes and how to destroy them.

However just as they were in the midst of the conversation the bedroom door flew open with a wall shaking crash. Hermione shrieked and dropped _Secrets of the Darkest Art_; Crookshanks streaked under the bed, hissing indignantly; Ron jumped off the bed, but skidded on a Chocolate Frog wrapper and smacked his head on the opposite wall, and Harry instinctively dived for his wand before realizing that he was looking up at the face of Mrs. Weasley, whose hair was disheveled and whose face was contorted with rage.

"I'm so sorry to break up this cozy little gathering," she said, her voice trembling. "I'm sure you all need your rest, but there are wedding presents stacked in my room that need sorting out and I was under the impression that you had all agreed to help."

"Oh, yes," said Hermione looking terrified as she leapt to her feet, sending books flying in every direction, "We will…we're sorry…"

With an anguished look at Harry and Ron, Hermione hurried out of the room after Mrs. Weasley.

Ron scowled.

More to come tomorrow!


	2. The Wedding

The Basilisk Fangs: A Collection of Missing Moments

Summary: A collection of Missing Moments between Ron and Hermione throughout the Deathly Hallows.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but work like a house elf.

Author's Note: Once again thank you for all the reviews! It honestly makes me so happy haha. I'll have to switch the order around again for this one, so **if you'd like to review, please do so on Chapter 3, if you have already reviewed chapters 1+2. **

A few read responses:

**Katie**- I don't like to include too much text from the book either, but I find that it helps keep me on track from where the story is going, and I don't mean for it to be a reminder of the book, I'll try to cut back.

**Acci0sanity**-Next chapter will either be one from Tottenham Road, if I can find something to put there, or I'll move to their first time in the tent and find a missing moment to do there.

**Right or Ryn, Hermione Ron love**-I'd like to hook them up before that too, but it will definitely have to be till after Silver Doe. I really want a nice romantic tent scene though 

**HPlives, Delilah Love**- Definitely going to do a few moments from those scenes, I loved those parts of the book

**Born Jinxed**- Thanks for the corrections, Ron had sat down on the bed when Harry came in, thus when Hermione started crying he was able to "bound" off it, he didn't want Harry see them sitting beside each other on the floor together. Another word for lightly…softly? Haha I tried to do some corrections yesterday but it mucked up my story order :p.

**Icecrystel**- Thank you for such a nice review, and that's very fast. I finished on the Sat. afternoon, it was just too good to put down, plus the prospect of Ron/Hermione moments drove me on.

And to everyone else, I will definitely do one on the Malfoy manor, and Chamber of Secrets (I have a piece of paper in front of me with all of them mapped out) Enjoy this chapter.

_Chapter Two: The Wedding _

Hermione was sitting in Ginny's second floor bedroom, looking out over the golden leaves of the Crabbe Apple tree and the field beyond. There was a distant hum of violins coming from the garden, where the band was warming up for Fleur's march down the aisle. Guests were slowly arriving by foot, having only been able to apparate into the field because of all the security measures placed on the Burrow. A flowery smell was caught in the breeze and wafting in through the window.

Ginny had already been dragged out of the room by Mrs. Weasley who was now barking instructions at her from the kitchen. Hermione deliberately dawdled, not wanting the same fate. She heard the back door slam and glanced down to see Ginny trudging across the grass to meet Gabrielle, who was wearing a matching dress of shimmering gold. Hermione looked around for Ron and Harry, but didn't catch a glimpse of either of them. 'They must be on the other side of the house' she thought, as she finished buckling up her lilac heel.

She stood up and checked her reflection in the mirror one last time.

"Yes, yes you're fairest of them all, now stop looking, you're giving me a headache!" The mirror yelled at her.

Hermione felt a wave of nervousness sweep over her as she stuck her head out the door, checking to make sure Ron wasn't near by. She carefully walked out of the room; she had a hard enough time keeping her balance as it was. Hermione had nearly reached the first step when she heard a loud grunt from the room across the hall. She looked around to see a large, hag like woman stooped over Fleur who was holding a diamond encrusted tiara in her hands.

"Oh dear is this the muggle born?" inquired Ron's Great Aunt Muriel, hobbling over to get a closer look. A mixture of pity and relief crossed over Fleur's face; Hermione knew she was glad to have the old woman's attention directed at someone else. "What poor posture! And my goodness, your ankles are as skinny as bowtruckles!" Aunt Muriel reached out to grab Hermione's wrist, perhaps hoping to see if there was any more fat there. Hermione huffed, snatched back her arm and marched down the rickety stair case into the kitchen. She caught site of both Harry's and Ron's flaming red hair standing in the doorway. Harry was supposed to be disguised as Ron's long lost muggle cousin Barny. Hermione took a deep breath, and was about to go and greet them when she heard a rasping noise coming from the stairs. Aunt Muriel seemed to have caught up to her and was stomping down the stairs, surprisingly spry for someone her age. She was wearing a hideous pink feathered hat which reminded Hermione unpleasantly of a flamingo. Hermione sunk into the shadows, not wishing to get another earful on her physical appearance. Aunt Muriel had turned and was walking out the side door now, hoping to cross Ron who was guiding a wiry looking wizard to his seat. Hermione couldn't hear what she was saying to him, but by the look on Ron's face it was obviously some sort of jibe on his appearance. She saw Muriel reach out a gnarled finger and flick Ron's hair, which caused Ron's face to contort into an expression filled with the deepest loathing. Eventually the beak nosed aunt was led to her seat and Hermione decided now would be the time to reveal herself as Ron came trotting back up to the house, mopping his forehead with his sleeve.

"Nightmare Muriel is," Hermione heard Ron say through the screen. "She used to come for Christmas every year, then, thank God, she took offence because Fred and George set off a Dungbomb under her chair at dinner. Dad always says she'll have written them out of her will-like they care, they're going to end up richer than anyone in the family, rate they're going-wow," Ron gawked. Hermione had come out of the house and was hurrying to meet them. Even Harry looked impressed, his fair eyebrows rising to the fringe of his red hair. Hermione gave a nervous smile.

"You look great!" Ron breathed, staring at her in awe.

"Always the tone of surprise," Hermione smiled. Ron turned around to Harry and let out a slow, exhaling whistle.

"Your Great Aunt Muriel doesn't agree," Hermione said, casting a dark look towards the woman who was hunched over beside a white haired witch, no doubt immersed in the latest gossip. "I just met her upstairs while she was giving Fleur the Tiara. She said 'Oh dear is this the muggle born?' and then 'bad posture and skinny ankles'." Ron stared in disbelief and felt a sudden flash of hate towards his Aunt.

"Don't take it personally, she's rude to everyone," Ron said, wanting to reassure Hermione that she did in fact have perfect ankles and posture.

"Talking about Muriel?" enquired George, re-emerging from the marquee with Fred. "Yeah, she's just told me my ears are lop sided, Old bat. I wish old Uncle Bilius was still with us, though; he was a right laugh at weddings.

"Wasn't he one who saw the Grim and died twenty four house later?" asked Hermione.

"Well, yeah he went a bit odd towards the end," conceded George.

"But before he went loopy he was the life and soul of the party," said Fred. "He used to down and entire bottle of Firewhisky, then run on to the dance floor, hoist up his robes, and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his-"

"Yes, he sounds like a real charmer," said Hermione, while Harry roared with laughter.

"Never married for some reason," Ron said.

"You amaze me," Hermione whispered with a fake tone of disbelief. Ron gave her a grin which soon turned into a laugh and soon they were all bent over roaring with laughter. Ron composed himself first and stared appreciatively at Hermione, her robes of lilac shaking as she laughed. He hadn't seen her look this beautiful-not that she wasn't always beautiful to him, but now everyone could see it-since the Yule Ball, but then she had been with Krum. This time she was only with him. He allowed himself to get caught up in this thought until he felt the prodding of an envelope at his chest. He broke out of the daydream and stared at the surly man standing in front of him and felt all the happiness die in his chest.

_Speak of the devil._

Hermione, too, seemed to have broken out of her light hearted trance and was now staring, open mouthed at Krum.

"You look vunderful!" Ron couldn't remember a time when he had hated the mispronunciation of a 'w' more.

"Viktor!" Hermione shrieked, dropping her hand bag. For a sickening moment, Ron thought she was going to leap into his arms. Instead she bent down to retrieve the fallen hand bag. "I didn't know you were-goodness-it's lovely to see you-how are you?"

Ron glanced down at the piece of paper that Krum had shoved at him. It was an invitation. Ron looked at it in disbelief, then held it up to the light, expecting it to be a fake. However, finding no traces of forgery, he blurted out, "How come you're here!?"

"Fleur invited me," said Krum, eyebrows raised. Ron's ears went red. A dozen images started flooding through his brain. _Hermione and Krum dancing. Hermione and Krum kissing. Hermione demanding that she and Krum are married today as well, making it a double wedding. _Ron was vaguely aware of Harry and Krum talking now, and when he looked up it was to see Harry leading Krum to his seat. Hermione was still standing there, giving him a look that suggested she was measuring his reaction.

"What?!" said Ron, perhaps a little too harshly. Ron spotted Krum's bent figure sitting down in a gold chair in a row to the left of theirs. It didn't help matters that Krum looked older than ever, now sporting a small beard. Ron wondered whether Hermione was impressed by it and looked over at her once more. Her cheeks had turned a soft shade of pink and she was looking at the ground. Ron heard Viktor call out Hermione's name from his seat, no doubt hoping that she would ditch her seat beside Ron and take up with him instead. Ron glowered at him, but to his relief (and satisfaction) Hermione chose to ignore him.

"Shall we sit down?" Hermione asked.

Ron gave a nod and took her arm, steering her the long way around to avoid walking down the centre aisle and coming in closer contact with Krum. They took their seats, joined by Harry, in the second row, behind Fred and George. Ron sat down in the middle, with Harry to his left, hoping to keep as much space as possible between Krum and Hermione. He went so far as to try and angle himself right in front of Krum's vision line of Hermione, in hopes that Krum wouldn't know where she was sitting.

Once he saw that Hermione was looking at the wedding program, he muttered to Harry

"Did you see he's grown a stupid, little beard?"

Harry gave a grunt, which Ron took to mean he agreed.

The music began to play after everyone had taken their seats. Ron's parents were the last to stroll down the aisle. Bill and Charlie stood up at the front of the marquee, both wearing dress robes, with large white flowers in their button holes. Ron was unpleasantly reminded of the disastrous Yule Ball. Fred wolf-whistled, and there was an outcry of giggling from some of Fleur's veela cousins. Then the crowd grew silent as the music swelled from what seemed to be enchanted golden balloons.

"Oooh!" said Hermione, who swiveled around in her seat. Ron was pleased to see that her eyes didn't even flicker to Krum as she did so. She was staring at the entrance where Monsieur Delacour and Fleur came walking up the aisle, Fleur gliding, Monsieur Delacour bouncing and beaming. Ginny and Gabrielle followed in their golden dresses, and Bill did not look as though he had ever met Fenrir Greyback.

"Ladies and Gentleman," said a sing song voice at the front. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls…"

A dog like voice, which Ron recognized to be his Aunt's, was saying from behind them "Yes, my tiara sets of the whole thing nicely. But I must say Ginevra's dress is cut far too low."

Ron agreed.

"Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle…?" the man continued.

Mrs. Weasley and Madame Delacour were both sobbing quietly into lacy handkerchiefs. Ron guessed they had never been used to clean out the oven. A trumpet like noise came from the back row as well, informing everyone that Hagrid had taken out one of his own tablecloth sized handkerchiefs. Hermione turned at beamed at Ron and Harry, her eyes, too, were full of tears.

"Then I declare you bonded for life." The wizard finished, raising his wand high over the heads of Bill and Fleur, and shower of silver stars fell upon them, spiraling around their entwined figures.

The guests broke out into a round of applause, led by Fred and George. Golden balloons burst: birds of paradise and tiny, golden bells flew and floated out of them, adding their songs and chimes to the din.

"Ladies and Gentleman, if you would please stand up," called the tufty haired wizard at the front. They all did so. The wizard waved his wand and the marquee vanished, replaced by a gleaming gold dance floor, formed from molten gold. The hovering chairs which had been magicked off the floor, arranged themselves around small, white clothed tables, and the golden jacketed band trooped towards the podium.

"Smooth," Ron approved, as waiters popped up on either side bearing Butterbeer, Firewhiskey, others carrying tottering piles of tarts and sandwiches.

"We should go and congratulate them," said Hermione, standing on tip toe and staring towards a crowd of well wishers gathered around Bill and Fleur. Ron caught sight of Krum making his way towards Bill and Fleur.

"We'll have time later," shrugged Ron, grabbing three Butterbeers from a passing tray and handing one to Harry.

"Hermione, cop hold, let's grab a table…not there! Nowhere near Muriel!" 'Or Krum' Ron added silently. Ron grabbed Hermione's hand and led her across the dance floor to the emptiest table, where Luna sat alone.

"All right if we join you?" asked Ron.

"Oh yes," she said. "Daddy's just gone to give Bill and Fleur their wedding present."

"What is it a lifetime supply of Gurdyroots?" asked Ron. Ron noticed that Harry's eyes were watering and wondered what was so upsetting about Gurdyroots.

The band begun to play and couples were swarming the dance floor. Ron glanced nervously towards Hermione who didn't seem to be expecting anything.

Luna had drifted off to the dance floor and was now dancing alone.

"She's great isn't she?" Ron admired, throwing a furtive look at Hermione to see her reaction. "Always good value." He pressed on. Perhaps he would ask Luna for a dance, he contemplated. Ron smiled at the thought, but it vanished immediately. Viktor Krum had sat down in Luna's vacated seat. Hermione looked flustered.

"Who is that man in the yellow?" Viktor scowled.

"That's Xenophilius Lovegood. He's the father of a friend of ours," said Ron, smugly. He hoped Hermione would think Viktor was rude for clearly trying to win her over insulting others.

"Come and dance," he added abruptly, for the look on Viktor's face suggested he was about to ask the same thing of Hermione. _This is not going to turn into another Yule Ball fiasco_ Ron thought bitterly.

Hermione looked taken aback, but also pleased he noticed as she stood up, giving her bag to Harry to hold on to. Harry, Ron noticed, looked mildly irritated to be asked to hold a purse.

Ron reached for Hermione's hand again and led her to the far side of the dance floor, away from the prying eyes of Krum. Lupin and Tonks were dancing to their left, and Charlie seemed to be chatting up one of Fleur's guests. Ron looked nervously around, as though looking for pointers on what to do next.

"Er...right then," he mumbled, encircling his hands around Hermione's waist, making sure to keep them as high as he could, not wanting to offend her. Hermione brought her arms up to rest on his shoulders as the beginning of the next song began to play. He noticed that the rhythm of the room began to slow as the golden band struck up a slow song, and Fleur and Bill took to the center of the floor.

Ron could feel the blush creeping into his face, asking her to dance had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that he was actually faced with this prospect, everything seemed horribly awkward.

He gave a small smile to Hermione, who was also just as red in the face.

"Good song," he said in a strangled voice. Hermione gave a melodious laugh.

Ron was upset to find that all the other dancing couples had their heads resting on one another's shoulder as the afternoon sun transformed into evening light. The birds of paradise were singing in the gardens, and the humming of gnomes trying to sneak back into the garden was growing more prominent. Ron looked nervously into Hermione's brown eyes which were twinkling with the reflection of the faeries floating overhead.

Ron moved a half step closer to her and clutched her waist more firmly as he saw Viktor Krum rise from his chair across the room. Hermione smiled kindly and took another step closer as well. Ron saw Viktor crossing the dance floor know and hurried in to close the remaining space between then. Hermione seemed surprised for a moment, but then rested her head on Ron's chest, unable to reach his shoulder. Ron's heart swelled and it seemed that Krum didn't have any interest in the two of them, but to throw them a burning look as he went to tap Xenophilius Lovegood on the shoulder.

Ron could feel Hermione's heart practically beating against his own, save for a matter of 7 inches below. Her warm hands were on the back of his neck. He was tempted to move his hands lower on her waist, and eventually gave into the temptation. He saw Fred give him the thumbs up as he twirled near by with another of Fleur's cousin.

Hermione had closed her eyes, and if he hadn't known better he would have guessed that she was in a peaceful sleep. He brought his chin to rest lightly on the top of her heard, but this gesture seemed to stir her and she looked up at him, curiosity mingled with happiness in her expression. If only he could close the gap between them, he thought. Slowly, Ron bent down towards her, but at that moment the band switched over to a new song with a faster tempo and the moment was broken.

New dancing pairs were flooding onto the golden floor, and their shoes squeaked as they were twirled and spun about. Ron and Hermione broke apart, unsure of what to do.

Ron cleared his throat, and grabbed Hermione by the wrist, and spun her towards him. They continued miming the other couples until the song ended, and the band took a breather from their instruments.

Hermione smiled at him out of breath.

"I'll go get us some more butterbeer," he said, and turned back into the crowd, fighting his way across to a strained looking waiter. Hermione headed in the opposite direction where she saw Harry sitting alone in a chair by the garden.

"Vut do you mean this is a symvol of the sun?" she heard Viktor say as the passed by him and Xenophilius Lovegood.

"Well it certainly is not any sign of this Grindewald you speak of," she heard him shoot back.

Hermione finally reached Harry and drew a chair up beside him, bending over to undo her shoes.

"I simply can't dance anymore," she panted, rubbing the sole of her foot.

"Ron's gone looking to find more Butterbeers. It's a bit odd, I've just seen Viktor storming away from Luna's father, it sounded like they'd been arguing-" Harry didn't seem particularly interested in this news, in fact, he looked a bit peaky.

Hermione dropped her voice, "Harry are you ok?"

Just then a silver lynx bounded on to the dance floor. It opened its wide mouth, showing glinting fangs and said, in the voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

'_The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.' _

Harry and Hermione jumped to their feet, a wave of silence rippled over the dancers and guests. Then someone screamed. The crowd began to panic and Harry and Hermione were caught up in the midst of them. Guests were sprinting in every direction, some of them disapparating. The protective enchantments around the Burrow had broken.

"Ron!" Hermione cried. "Ron where are you!" She grabbed her handbag from Harry and looked around wildly.

Lupin and Tonks had their wands raised and were pointing around the tent with shouts of "Protego!"

"Ron! Ron!" Hermione half called, half sobbed. Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her down as a flash of light streaked over their heads. And then Ron appeared he grabbed hold of Hermione's free hand.

She was safe.

A/N: Wow that seemed to take forever. It's annoying having to check to make sure everything fits in with the book. While writing the dancing part I kept thinking of how awkward Rupert was in the dancing scene in Driving Lessons, even though you could tell that his character, Ben, was supposed to be awkward, it was definitely Rupert in there who looked absolutely terrified at the prospect of having to dance on camera. Has anyone sent that movie? Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it.


	3. Sleeping Arrangements

The Basilisk Fangs: A Collection of Missing Moments

Summary: A collection of Missing Moments between Ron and Hermione throughout the Deathly Hallows.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but work like a house elf.

Author's Note: So I finished Deathly Hallows, and was eager to find some good fan fiction post DH to fill the void after reading it, but I soon decided on writing my own. This chapter takes place at Grimmauld Place. I can't guarantee that the "missing moments" will take place right where the last left off. Also, I'd like to go back and write two more prior to this, so I suspect the order may shift around, but this was the first "missing moment" I felt compelled to write about. Please review! Typically, I update after receiving at least 10 reviews. Reviews are like author currency  I hope everyone enjoyed Deathly Hallows and feel free to leave your thoughts about all the Ron/Hermione scenes in the comments.

_Chapter Two: Sleeping Arrangements_

Harry, Ron and Hermione were gathered around a large sofa in the second floor drawing room at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. The room has reverted to its state of neglect since the Order has stopped using the building as headquarters. A thick layer of dust was now coating the wooden furniture, and the dumpy sofa wheezed as Hermione sat down on it. The faint buzzing of a Doxy nest was disturbingly present as well, and Harry, Ron and Hermione gave a hanging tapestry a large breadth as they walked by.

Hermione and Harry had been arguing over the topic of Occlumency once more after Harry had emitted a shriek of pain as his scar burst into fire.

"Your scar again? But what's going on? I thought that connection had closed!" said Hermione in a frightened voice.

"It did, for a while," muttered Harry. "I think it's started opening again whenever he loses control, that's how it used to-"

"But then you've got to close your mind!" said Hermione shrilly. "Harry, Dumbledore didn't want you to use that connection, he wanted you to shut it down, that's why you were supposed to study Occlumency! Otherwise Voldemort can plant false images in your head, remember-" Hermione decided to go about the topic this way, knowing Harry would be more likely to obey and put a cease to her worries if she reminded him of Dumbledore's wish, and the danger it had caused to Sirius.

"Yeah, I do remember, thanks," said Harry, gritting his teeth. Hermione's tactic did not have the desired effect. Instead Harry just seemed more testy. Harry had turned away from both Ron and Hermione. They shared a brief look, fear etched into Ron's face as well as Hermione's. _The Wedding._ Hermione thought. All of Ron's friends and family were there. What if something had happened?

Suddenly a burst of silver leaped through the window and landed on the floor in front of them. Hermione let out a shriek, thinking it was another trap like the one downstairs, and Harry spun around, wand drawn. However the form was now solidifying into a weasel and after a few moments it spoke in the voice of Ron's father,

'_Family Safe, do not reply, we are being watched. _

Hermione could feel all of Ron's muscles instantly relax beside her as he slid off the arm rest and into the sofa. Ron let out a strange noise between a whimper and a laugh, causing Hermione to instantly latch onto his arm.

"They're all right. They're all right!" she whispered, giving his arm a small shake. Ron half-laughed and spun around to hug her, Hermione burying her face in his neck.

It seemed as though all of Ron's troubles had simply melted away with the news.

"Harry," he said over Hermione's shoulder, "I-"

"It's not a problem," said Harry, a sick look now taking hold of his features.

"It's you family, 'course you're worried, I'd feel the same way. I _do_ feel the same way." Harry looked away again, seemingly troubled by something. Ron and Hermione had released each other now, but were still sitting very close.

"It's late," Ron whispered. "I s'pose we better tuck in, lots more to do tomorrow. I'll check with Harry about sleeping arrangements-"

"I don't want to be on my own. Could we use the sleeping bags I've brought and camp in here tonight?" Hermione said in a small voice.

Ron gulped. He hadn't ever shared a room with Hermione before, not even at the Burrow. She was always on the next level with Ginny. With Harry he could let his guard down, but what if he snored, or drooled. But the thought of sending Hermione away, into another room was even more upsetting and troublesome to him. In the end he let out a strangled 'Of Course' and gave her hand a squeeze. Hermione let out a sigh of relief and smiled.

Hermione turned to tell Harry, but before the sentence could leave her lips, Harry turned on the spot, muttered "Bathroom" and half-ran out of the room. Ron and Hermione heard the door to the bathroom slam a few seconds later, and the jingling of a lock being latched.

"Er- do you think we should check on him," Ron asked, but at the same time content to be alone with Hermione for the first time since the Wedding.

"No, no, I don't think we should intrude. Let's just set up the room for tonight," Hermione said, standing up. The drawing room had a large rug spread across the wooden floor that would add for some cushioning between the hard surface. A large wooden, oval table however stood on top of it, obstructing the majority of the floor space. With a heave Ron and Hermione picked it up and moved it to one side. Hermione then undid the clasp on her beaded hang bag, and muttered "Accio Sleeping bags". Three small parcels shot into her hand and increased in size as she pulled her arm out further. She tossed a Red one to Ron, and left the remaining blue and green ones in her hand.

"That bag is turning to be useful i'n' it?" said Ron admiringly as he rolled out his sleeping bag onto the floor. Hermione smiled and rolled hers down right next to his, a fact that pleased Ron immensely. Hermione then set about rolling out Harry's on his other side, meaning that Hermione would be beside Ron, and Ron only.

Despite it being an August night, there was a draft coming in to the room and the floor itself was cold as stone.

"I'll go and see if I can find anymore blankets in the house, shall I?" said Hermione, briskly strolling out the door. Ron watched her go, finding an emptiness spread over the room as her warm presence left. He glanced towards the sofa where an idea suddenly struck him.

In a chivalrous effort, he rolled back Hermione's sleeping bag, and took the spongy pillows off the sofa, he laid them out on the floor and set Hermione's sleeping bag back on top of them. 'This is better' he thought, eager for Hermione to return and praise him for his work. He heard the stairs creaking above and rearranged his features into that of a modest person, hoping that the tips of his ears hadn't gone red.

Hermione entered, her arms overflowing with a disarray of numerous sheets and blankets. Corners of patchwork quilts, and striped bed linens swamped her small frame.

"I just stripped them off the beds. They're not very colourful…or clean for that matter, but hopefully they'll be a bit warmer," she said dropping the blankets into a heap on the floor. Ron waited for her to notice his work, but Hermione was busy pulling a sheet over Harry's sleeping bag, and then laying another duvet over that. She then turned to hers and Ron's sleeping bags, and let out a small "Oh!" Ron could feel the blush creeping into his face, before she had even flung her arms around his neck.

"Oh Ron you shouldn't have! You take them, you've had a much more stressful day than me," she breathed into his shoulder.

"Nah, you have them. It's more comfortable for you that way," Ron reasoned, silently begging his face to retain its composure. Hermione was still clutching him tightly, and he had brought his arms awkwardly around her waist. The moment was broken though by the sound of Harry wretching in the bathroom across the hall.

"I should finish up here," she mumbled, a pink tinge in her cheeks. Ron knelt down to help her as she pulled a King sized quilt across both of their sleeping bags, another small fact that made Ron's heart leap. She then turned her attention to the window and drew the curtain across, leaving only a sliver of moonlight remaining in the room.

"We should change," she said, pulling out two pairs of pajamas from her bag.

"Yeah," Ron breathed, staring at her. But Hermione seemed to be waiting for something, blue pajamas still clutched in her hand.

"Oh," Ron said and turned his back to her. He heard the floor creak and assumed she must have crossed to the other side. Ron felt his heart sink. He turned to the window and began to pull off his shirt, catching a small reflection in the area not covered by the curtain. He could see the faint outline of Hermione lifting a shirt over her head and waited with baited breath at the sight. Unfortunately, her back was still turned to him, and with disappointment he continued changing,

"Are you done?" came Hermione's voice from behind him.

"Er, yeah, hang on," said Ron as he finished hoisting up his maroon bottoms. Hermione turned around however before he had done so, and Ron was sure she had seen something.

"I'll go check on Harry," she said awkwardly and walked out of the room. Ron could hear her rapping on the door.

"Harry do you want your toothbrush? I've got it here."

The door squealed on its hinges as Harry went to open it.

"Yeah, great thanks." Ron heard him mutter in response. Ron heard the door close again and Hermione came back in. He tried to look as though he was occupied with unzipping his sleeping bag as she did the same, neither meeting each others eyes. Ron heard the water running in the washroom. He reluctantly crawled in, cringing at the unexpected dampness of the material. Hermione seemed to notice his discomfort.

"My family used them for camping, they'd been in our cellar for a couple years," she offered as an explanation.

Ron gave her a small smile as he zipped up his bag again. He felt Hermione slide into hers and his hair prickled at her closeness. He wasn't sure which way he should position himself. Would facing her be too close? But then again, turning the other way might seem rude. Ron eventually decided on the former and rolled over, and found himself face to face with the side of the sofa cushion; Hermione raised several inches off the ground.

She had her face titled towards his however.

"Comfy?" he asked lamely.

"Yes, thank you."

Ron felt his face growing hot, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Well, g'night," he said, and turned back over.

"Goodnight," Hermione whispered, Ron thought he could detect a hint of sadness in her voice.

A few moments passed in the darkness. He heard Hermione shuffle around in her sleeping bag, and the cushions rasped slightly under her weight. Ron quietly hoped she hadn't turned around.

"Ron?" came her voice after a few minutes longer. Harry was still in the washroom.

"Yeah?" he sighed into his pillow, feeling a smile spread over his face.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing?"

"What do you mean?" Ron's forehead creased.

"It's just do you think Harry wants us here? I don't know if we're going to make a difference. Maybe we would have been better to go back to Hogwarts…" she trailed off. Ron could feel her doubts seeping into the atmosphere. He guessed she was normally like this before she fell asleep, all the same he rolled over to reassure her.

"Yeah, it matters that we're here, well you anyway. Harry doesn't know half the stuff you do, without you Harry and I would have been stuck back at Tottenham road, probably unconscious and with those Death Eaters torturing us," Ron looked into her face and was alarmed to see her eyes now swimming with tears, "You're amazing," he finished.

Hermione gave a watery smile. "I'm still worried," she said after a few seconds, "But I don't think anything you say can change that." For a moment the words 'I love you' flickered through Ron's mind, but he wasn't sure if this was the time.

"We all are," he whispered and reached out his hand to cup the side of her face. They stayed like this for a full minute, staring into each other's eyes. Ron's heart was beating faster than he could have ever imagined. If only he just leaned in and closed the gap between them…

But then the bathroom door burst open and a gush of light filled the room as Harry emerged. Ron quickly moved his arm and rolled over. The light went out again and Harry walked into their room, decked in striped green Pj's. Ron muttered something about using his deluminator. Harry threw a fleeting glance their way before crawling into his sleeping bag beside Ron. Ron felt Harry cringe as well, and knew that the dampness had sunk in. Harry mumbled a "Goodnight" and pulled the duvet over his head.

Ron slowly shifted his weight back to Hermione and gave her a sheepish grin. To his surprise, she returned it. Ron's urge to kiss her welled up inside him again and it took a great difficulty to restrain it. Instead he reached for her hand which was hanging limply at her side. He held it lightly, and stroked the back with his thumb. He could feel her hand shaking lightly, and was amazed that his own wasn't doing the same. Harry gave a grunt beside them, which slowly subsided into a rhythmic snore. Hermione bit back a laugh. They both rolled inwards to be marginally closer. Ron now regretted the fact that Hermione was raised up on the cushions, preventing him from being able to hold her to him.

Hermione had closed her eyes, and Ron did the same. Her breathing soon became even, but her grip on his hand had tightened. Ron soon drifted into a deep sleep, his heart feeling more content than it had in weeks, all because of the small hand that was clutched in his.

Harry woke early the next morning, wrapped in a sleeping bag on the drawing room floor. A chink of sky was visible between the heavy curtains; it was cool, clear blue of watered ink, somewhere between night and dawn, and everything was quiet except for Ron and Hermione's slow, deep breathing. Harry glanced over at the dark shapes they made on the floor beside him. Ron had had a fit of gallantry and insisted Hermione sleep on the cushions from the sofa, so that her silhouette was raised above his. Her arm curved to the floor, her fingers inches from Ron's. Harry wondered whether they had fallen asleep holding hands.

Thanks for reading and please review!


	4. In a Splinch

The Basilisk Fangs: A Collection of Missing Moments

Summary: A collection of Missing Moments between Ron and Hermione throughout the Deathly Hallows.

Author's Note: Thank you once again to all whom reviewed. This chapter will be chapter 4, and will take place right after Sleeping Arrangements, so reviewing should be back to normal now. I looked through the book, but couldn't find any suitable missing moments to do in between the time, most of it being them at the Ministry, and therefore separated from one another. This chapter deals with what happens right after they apparate into the forest, and shows Ron splinching and some private tent scenes. Unfortunately, Harry is present in most of these scenes although I may force him to go and "stand watch" so Ron and Hermione can have their privacy.

A few more reader responses:

**Born-Jinxed**- I agree, anxious or flustered would have been a better word, glad to know you like the story.

**Lana**- I know my POV's keep switching, I have problems haha. Although the reason I did it in the beginning was because we already knew what was going on with Ron at this point, he was with Harry, so that "moment" wasn't exactly "missing". I prefer to write for Ron as well, I just love delving into his mind. As for the dance, I think Ron would have initially rushed off and taken her to the dance floor, but once there, away from Krum, his nervousness would probably kick in again.

**Gingersnaps17**-I agree, I don't like it when things are rushed and they suddenly declare their undying love

_Chapter Four: In a Splinch_

Small, white dots of light were forming in front of Ron's eyes. He was faintly aware of a painful throbbing in his right upper arm, and it felt as though he was lying on a damp, spongy surface. Voices were fading in and out around him, shadowy figures pacing in front of the light. Eventually Ron was able to connect the strange sounds they were making and form words, although the source still seemed far-off.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" said the higher of the two voices, one which seemed pleasantly familiar.

"Don't be stupid, it wasn't your fault! If anything it was mine…"

The voices stopped for a moment, and Ron heard the shuffling of fabric. The pain in his arm was stronger now.

"Umbridge had stuck it to her office door, to spy on people. I couldn't leave it there…but that's how they knew there were intruders." Ron heard a small whimper to his left.

_Hermione. _

Ron groaned and opened his eyes. Rays of light beat down on him, causing him to recoil.

"How're you feeling?" asked Hermione, bending down by his side.

"Lousy," was all Ron could manage. He slowly brought his hand up to his injured arm and winced. He heard Hermione give another small cry. "Where are we?" Ron asked, looking around at what appeared to be the outlines of hundreds of trees.

"In the woods where they held the Quidditch World Cup," replied Hermione. "I wanted somewhere undercover, enclosed, and this was the first place I thought of."

Ron remembered that the Death Eaters knew about these woods as well. They had made an appearance last time, dangling muggles in mid-air, until someone had set off the Dark Mark.

"D'you reckon we should move on?" Ron asked Harry. He wasn't thrilled on staying in the dank and shady forest as long as he could avoid it.

"I dunno."

Ron could see Harry's doubt that he would be able to move etched into his face. Ron didn't even have the energy to sit up, let alone apparate.

"Let's stay here for now," Harry decided.

Hermione looked relieved and sprang to her feet. Ron panicked, not wanting to be separated, even if it was only for a matter of minutes.

"Where are you going?"

"If we're staying we should put up some protective enchantments around the place," she replied, raising her wand and walking in a wide circle around Harry and Ron, muttering incantations under her breath. Ron watched her, afraid that if he looked away she would disappear.

"You could get out the tent Harry," she instructed. Harry looked confused for a moment, "Tent?"

"In the bag!"

"In the…oh of course," Harry mumbled, trudging across the forest clearing to where Hermione's beaded hand bag lay.

A few moments later Ron heard Harry griping about his dad's assistant Perkins, wondering why they had his tent. He closed his eyes, Harry's voice was getting on his nerves. It didn't have the same gentle, harmonious, sweet sound like Hermione's…

"Cave inimicum," Hermione finished. "That's as much as I can do. At the very least, we should know when they're coming. I can't guarantee it will keep out Vol-"

"Don't say that name!" Ron cut across, sounding harsh. He couldn't explain what he felt at first, only that when she had started forming the word a sharp sound, like a knife slashing at the air had punctured the atmosphere. A cold wind had picked up, and icy voices began to whisper excitedly, seeming to emit from the hollows of the trees surrounding them.

He saw Hermione looking frightened out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm sorry," Ron said, moaning, as he raised himself slightly to look at Hermione. "But it feels like a-a jinx or something. Can't we just call him You-Know-Who-please?

"Dumbledore said fear of a name-" Harry began.

"In case you hadn't noticed mate, calling You-know-Who by his name didn't do Dumbledore much good in the end," Ron snapped. "Just-just show You-Know-Who some respect will you?"

"_Respect?_" Harry repeated, and Ron saw Hermione give him a warning look as to drop the conversation. Ron let out a small moan of pain to emphasize his weakened condition in hopes that Hermione would hurry back to his side.

She did so, but declared that he should be moved into the tent in order to rest properly. Ron now noticed that his shirt had been ripped open where his injury was. Ron inquired how this had happened and noticed Hermione's cheek tinge slightly as she muttered an explanation involving having to use the essence of Dittany.

Hermione called Harry over to help her move Ron. Hermione gently laid her one of her hands underneath his shoulder and the other on his back. Harry grabbed his legs, in a rather rough manner Ron noticed, and on the count of three they hoisted him up and started trying to move him towards the tent. Ron paled. Neither of them appeared to be able to sufficiently support his weight. The jostling motion made him feel even more sick. He could feel the flaps of the tent brush along side him and knew they were close to the bunk bed. After a few more unsteady steps they slowly lowered him on to the mattress where he stayed with his eyes closed. He heard Harry sit down in an armchair across the room, while Hermione lightly sat down at his side. She reached out a warm hand and placed it on his forehead. Ron feigned sleep.

Ron noticed that she kept her hand there longer than it would have taken for her to judge his temperature. She began to push the hair away from his eyes when Harry gave a small cough from across the room, and she snatched her hand back.

"I'll make some tea," said Hermione breathlessly, and Ron slowly opened his eyes to see her pulling out a kettle and three mugs from her bag and crossing the room to the small kitchen. Ron laid there, mentally cursing Harry for sending Hermione hurrying to the other side of the room.

Ten minutes later Hermione reappeared by his side, and Ron pretended to awake. He tried to push himself up with his left arm, but to no avail.

"Here," said Hermione, setting his mug down on a small table and helping to prop him up. Harry was noisily sipping his tea from across the room; Ron narrowed his eyes.

Hermione handed him his mug back, and drew up a chair next to him.

"What do you reckon happened to the Cattermoles?"

"With any luck they'll have gotten away," said Hermione, clutching her mug for comfort. Ron yearned to wrap her in his arms once again, but Harry was scrutinizing them from the corner. "As long as Mr. Cattermole had his wits about him, he'll have transported Mrs. Cattermole by side along Apparation and they'll be fleeing the country right now with their children. That's what Harry told him to do."

"Blimey, I hope they escaped," Ron said, leaning back on his pillows. The tea was starting to perk him up a bit…or perhaps it was Hermione's closeness. "I didn't get the feeling Reg Cattermole was all that quick witted though, the way people were talking to me when I was him. God I hope they made it…if they all end up in Azkaban because of us…"Ron glanced over at Hermione, and the sentence stuck in his throat. She was staring at him with an expression of what appeared to be…tenderness? Ron swallowed, wondering if worrying about others was all it took for Hermione to look at him like that. Ron fished for another topic to be concerned about, but none came. Hermione was still staring at him devotedly, and he felt himself lock eyes with her as well. Ron was suddenly aware that she was slowly leaning in, and that he was miming her action.

"So have you got it?" came Harry's intruding voice. Both Ron and Hermione gave a start.

"Got-got what?"

"What did we just go through all that for? _The locket_! Where's the locket?"

"_You got it_?" shouted Ron, wondering why no one had cared to share this piece of news with him. "No one tells me anything! Blimey you could have mentioned it!"

"Well we were running for our lives from the Death Eaters weren't we?" said Hermione. "Here."

The next half hour was spent discussing the Horcrux, and how they would take turns handling it until they were able to destroy it. Ron found himself drifting into sleep by one o' clock, and when he awoke again it was to Hermione shaking him gently.

"We've got some food, if you'd care for any," she said, holding out a mug, filled with what looked like rotting fungus. Ron thought it was some kind of joke, taking the mickey out of the ill, seemed like something Harry would concoct.

"What the bleeding hell is this rubbish?" he snapped. Hermione looked shocked for a moment, before regaining her composure.

"It's wild mushrooms. I didn't think to pack any food at the time, I thought we would have a chance to get some before we set out," she explained, although looking slightly angry at Ron's insult to her cooking.

Ron took the can stubbornly and started poking around it with a fork. Hermione looked displeased. Ron glanced over at Harry who seemed to be chewing the mushrooms with great difficulty. Ron took a tentative bite, Hermione watching him do so.

Ron could have likened the taste to that of rubber, except he expected that rubber would have more of a taste to it. Hermione smiled when he swallowed the mouthful. He took another bite hesitantly, waiting for her to turn her attention elsewhere so that he could spit the mushrooms into his handkerchief. He pushed the mug away, feeling queasy. Harry was still chewing, the look of utmost revulsion on his face.

Hermione had already finished hers, although Ron expected this fact was less because she enjoyed it and more so because she wanted to encourage them to eat their portions. The light outside the tent had dimmed significantly and the faint glowing of fireflies was visible. The night seemed to be rather pleasant, taking into consideration the circumstances they had come from. The air was fresh and the weather cool. At 6 o clock, according to his gold watch, Hermione went out to act as look out. Harry was sitting on the top bunk of the bed to the right, twirling the locket between his fingers. Hermione had already staked the bunk above his as her own. Ron sat dejectedly, not having any object or means of entertainment to keep his mind occupied. Instead he contented himself with watching Hermione sitting in the door way just outside the tent on a small, wooden stool.

She was waving her wand over the forest gloom, the tip alight. Ron let out a fake groan of pain, hoping she would hurry to his side again. All that happened was that Harry turned to stare at him and ask him if he could keep it to himself, as he was trying to think. Ron scowled at him.

Having slept, the entire afternoon away, Ron could not fall asleep. He resigned to wait until Harry took over watch, and sat in bed waiting for Hermione. At 10, Harry went over to the entrance and muttered "lumos".

Hermione came back in to the tent, looking tired. She paused beside Ron.

"How're you feeling now?"

"Bit better," he shrugged. Hermione began to climb the ladder.

"I, er, hope Kreacher's ok though, I don't want him to be too upset, since he's all alone," Ron added lamely. He noted the instant change in Hermione's demeanor as he said this. She no longer looked stiff and upset, but rather vulnerable. She took a few steps down the ladder and went back to stand beside Ron. He ebbed over slightly so she could sit down. Ron cast a look to see what Harry was doing, but couldn't see him as the flaps of the tent had been drawn.

Ron could think of nothing else to say, hoping Hermione would be content to just sit there beside him. Hermione reached across him, and touched his arm tenderly.

"Does it hurt terribly?"

"Yeah," Ron said, putting on an act of toughness. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Well, er, I reckon it's a bit better than before…" Hermione was now tracing the outline of the gash softly with her finger tips.

"Are you tired?" he asked her all of a sudden. Hermione looked bemused at this question.

"I just mean, if you w-want to lie down, you can…here," he stuttered.

He saw her eyes flicker to the tent's entrance as well, no doubt wondering if Harry was watching them. She slowly laid down beside him; Ron moved closer to the tent wall, not wanting to make any unwelcome advances. Hermione was facing outwards in to the middle of the tent. Ron was unsure of what to do; he cautiously reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder. Hermione turned her head over to look at him. He gave a small smile and she turned her body towards him as well. Ron moved the hair out of her eyes, desiring more physical contact. She moved up against him, pressing herself to him, and resting her hand on his arm. Ron reached out his free hand and held it to the small of her back. Neither of them breathed, Ron wasn't sure how much longer he could maintain control. Harry coughed from outside the tent, and Hermione's hold on him relaxed. Ron watched as she closed her eyes and began to drift into a deep sleep, eventually Ron did the same, Hermione's frame still clutched dearly to him.

Ron wasn't sure what time it was when an ear splitting shriek came from outside the tent. Both he and Hermione jumped awake, Hermione rushing to disentangle herself from his arms. She ran outside the tent, where Ron could hear Harry's groans of pain and panting. 'All it took was for Harry to call her name and she would run to his side,' Ron thought bitterly. Ron poked his head outside of the bed. He heard her say the beginnings of Voldemort's name.

"Don't say his name!" he roared.

"Fine, You-Know-Who's mind, then!" she snapped at him.

"I think I'd better take over the watch if you're so tired you're falling asleep," he heard her say.

Ron kicked the side of the tent in frustration. A few moments later Harry ambled back in, taking the bunk above him which was meant to be Hermione's. Ron frowned at him as he did so. But seeing Harry look so ill made his icy attitude melt, and he began an amiable conversation with Harry about his "dream" before giving way to the strong pull of sleep.

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I tried to make it less canon than my others. Please review 


	5. Through the Maize

The Basilisk Fangs: A Collection of Missing Moments

Summary: A collection of Missing Moments between Ron and Hermione throughout the Deathly Hallows.

Author's Note: Once again, thank you for all the reviews! I love having the little email alerts pop up when I'm signed into msn, haha. I'm glad everyone is enjoying the story and that it's taking their mind off the whole "Post-Potter depression", as writing is helping me not think about it as well. Here is the next chapter, which I think is my favourite so far.

A few more reader responses:

**Pyromaniac-Girl**: I'm not sure whether or not I'll continue on, I doubt that I will have their "first" kiss page be the last moment though, I'll probably do a few more after that. And if I finish them all, I may go back and find a few smaller moments to do, like **Codypup** suggested, about them being alone in Grimmauld Place for hours while Harry watched the ministry.

**Sweetiepie1019**- Well in the actual book, seeing as how it's Harry's POV, he doesn't seem like a jackass, but at this point in the book, Ron is starting to become disgruntled with Harry, seeing as how he leaves in the next chapter. I needed to cast some doubt in his mind about Hermione's love for him, or else the scene in Silver Doe would never have happened. Ron's anger with Harry will increase to the breaking point in this chapter, but after that it's smooth sailing.

_Chapter Five: Through the Maize_

Sunlight streamed in through the flaps of the tent the next morning, as the sun rose over the neighbouring hills around the clearing. Sparrows and songbirds were twittering madly in the overhanging trees and the chattering squirrels were racing along the delicate branches, their claws scratching noisily on the weathered bark.

"Bleeding birds," Ron swore, sitting up rather sleepily and squinting into the light. He had the unpleasant feeling of having slept on damp ground, and his hair felt as though it had been trodden with dew, despite the fact he had remained in his bunk the entire night. The air was stale inside the tent, and it now occurred to Ron that he hadn't been outside at all since he had splinched himself.

Harry, now fully dressed, was sitting in one of the saggy armchairs, finishing off the dregs of his tea. Hermione, too, was clutching a blue mug to her mouth, although still in pajamas, and sitting closely beside Harry, deep in conversation. Ron cleared his throat in mild annoyance.

" 'Morning," Harry said, standing up. Ron nodded curtly. Hermione turned as well and gave him a small smile, then busied herself rinsing out their mugs in the kitchen sink.

"What do you reckon we should do now?" asked Ron, kicking off the sheets from his bed and shakily getting to his feet.

"Well for starters, I think we should move on from this place," Hermione declared, scanning the room for her beaded handbag, which was resting on a nearby coffee table.

"It's best not to stay anywhere too long." She shoved the mugs in her bag.

Harry nodded in agreement and inquired where would be another safe location.

"I think it's best to remain in the shelter of a forest," said Hermione.

"I don't mind so long as the supposed forest is close to some decent food. I'm starving after that rubbish meal last night," Ron grumbled, grabbing his clothes and wandering in to the small bathroom. He saw Hermione give a meaningful look to Harry as he shut the door.

"And it wouldn't hurt if the aforementioned food happened to be a delicious, bacon sandwich," Ron added, his voice muffled through the door.

Ron re-emerged a few moments later, now donning his t- shirt and jeans. Hermione, who had changed as well, was gathering up what few possessions they had unpacked the night before.

"Help Harry take down the tent and obliterate all traces that we've been here, while I remove the protective charms," Hermione instructed coldly, obviously still angry over Ron's jibe at her mushrooms.

Ron grudgingly obeyed, and followed Harry and Hermione out of the tent, into the forest air. Harry gave a small flick of his wand and the tent collapsed, folding itself into a neat bundle. Ron picked it up and stuffed it in the Hermione's handbag, before traipsing back to where the tent had stood prior and shooting his wand at the trampled grass, causing it to spring back up with surprising buoyancy. Harry did the same, obliterating footsteps on the forest floor. Finally Ron shot his wand at the outline of where Harry had fainted the night before, bitterly recalling the interruption, and the grass leapt back into its previous stance before the event had occurred.

Hermione was just finishing her last wand movement when Ron and Harry walked towards her.

"Ready?" she asked, as they grabbed hold of her arms. She gave a small turn and they were hurtled into another patch of woods, this one a bit sparser than before. This may have been because they were near the edge of the forest, rather than the middle Ron noticed. Cottages were visible in the distance and smoke was billowing out of their chimneys. Harry suggested they find somewhere less conspicuous and so they headed deeper into the thicket. The forest was extremely similar to the other, except that it had more coniferous trees and seemed a bit more serene. The sound of rushing water was audible and after 20 minutes of walking they settled on a lot of land nestled in between two large pine trees. Once again Hermione erected the tent and set about making basic spells around the area. Ron walked to the edge of their retreat and stared longingly at the direction of the market town, where he could imagine the smells of freshly baked bread, and roasting meat wafting through the streets. Hermione had not spoken directly to Ron since they had apparated. Ron snapped back the limb of a near by tree angrily, earning him a disdainful look from Hermione. Ron was about to retort when Harry emerged from the tent holding the Invisibility Cloak.

"I'll head into the village and see if I can get some food," he explained, unfurling the cloak around his body, leaving nothing but his head visible. Ron gave an encouraging smile at this prospect and sunk onto a nearby rock as he watched Harry's floating head bob up and down until it was out of sight.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence Hermione walked over to him, a stack of bandages piled in her arms.

"How's you arm?" she asked, bending down beside him.

"Fine," Ron said, still not feeling like talking to her.

"You should get rid of the bandages, we can put it in a sling instead, otherwise it could get infected," Hermione said, reaching out and carefully sliding back the sleeve of Ron's shirt. Ron felt his anger subside at this act, and held back his shirt so that she had better access to his wound.

Ron watched her carefully as she peeled off the bandages; most of the blood had dried, indicating that the bleeding had stopped. She pulled out a small bottle of brownish liquid.

"Essence of Dittany, I used it before when you were unconscious, but its best not to use in copious amounts at one time, or else it can cause the skin to grow too many layers, making a sort of bind on your arm," she explained. Ron nodded staring intently at Hermione as she applied the medication. Hermione glanced up and caught his eye, blushing as she did so.

"There," she said unevenly, corking the bottle. She vanished the soiled bandages and formed a sling with the new cotton strips she had brought. Hermione stood up and reached over Ron to tie the new sling around his neck, mid-way through however she lost her balance and Ron grabbed her waist to stop her from falling onto the ground, the result however was that she awkwardly fell into his lap instead.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," she said, struggling to free herself. Ron blushed, attempting to help her, which only caused her to fall again. Ron started chuckling at the situation, Hermione attempted to give him a scathing look, which ended turning into laughter as well.

"Dementors!" came a yell from their right as Harry came running in, whipping off the Invisibility Cloak. He stopped short and stared as them open mouthed. Ron leapt up, causing Hermione to fall onto the ground.

"What're y-"began Harry

"Dementors?" asked Hermione aghast, brushing off her knees.

"They were swarming the market town," Harry explained, out of breath, still shooting curious glances between the two. Ron checked Harry's hands and noticed that they were empty. He looked hopefully around his back, thinking that perhaps Harry had hidden the food there, but was disappointed.

"But you can make a brilliant Patronus," Ron faltered, his mood darkening once again.

"I couldn't…make one," Harry panted, clutching at his side. "Wouldn't come…"

Ron's face gave way to disappointment, knowing he would spend another night hungry. He trundled back into the tent, arms crossed. "So we still haven't gone any food?" Ron said, turning on Harry. He didn't see what was the problem with producing a Patronus, Harry had done it loads of times, and in circumstances much worse than this.

"Shut up, Ron," Hermione snapped at him. Ron gave her a look of disbelief at her sudden mood swing, despite the fact that his had changed just as much.

"Harry what happened? Why do you think you couldn't make your Patronus? You managed perfectly yesterday!"

Once again Hermione was obsessing over Harry, always needing to make sure that Harry was in perfect health and spirits, Ron sulked.

"I don't know," Harry said, sitting down in an armchair.

Ron kicked a chair leg.

"What?!" he snarled at Hermione. "I'm starving! All I've had since I half-bled to death is a couple of toadstools!"

"You go and fight you way through the Dementors then," said Harry, pushing his chair aside viciously.

"I would but my arm's in a sling, in case you hadn't noticed," spat Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"That's convenient."

"And what's the supposed to-"

"Of course!" said Hermione, clapping a hand to her forehead. Ron gave a start, and turned to look at her.

"Harry, give me the locket," she said, stretching out her arm, "Come on! Harry, the Horcrux, you're still wearing it." Harry took it off and put it in her hand.

The instance it left his touch his countenance seemed to lighten altogether.

"Better?" Hermione asked, concerned. Ron scowled.

"Yeah, loads better!"

Hermione spent the next few minutes worrying and doting over Harry, wondering if he had been possessed by the locket, while Ron watched glumly from the corner. In the end it was decided they were to wear the locket in turns so that nobody wore it too long.

"Great," said Ron irritably "And now we've sorted that out can we please go find some food?"

"Fine, but we'll go somewhere else to find it," said Hermione glancing at Harry. "There's no point staying where Dementors are swooping around."

Despite the fact that they had only just settled in, the tent and all the enchantments were taken down once more. This time they apparated into a farmer's field.

"Excellent," declared Ron, craning his neck to see over the tops of the corn. "Really excellent."

They were standing in the midst of a large field of corn, Harry and Hermione unable to see over the tops.

"Harry you stay here, and set up the tent, clear away some of the corn first though," Hermione instructed.

"Ron you come with me, unless of course you're not fit enough to hold a loaf of bread, in which case you'd better stay here and Harry can come instead," Hermione said smugly.

Ron muttered an "I'm fine", and pointed his wand at the corn, about to cut it away. Hermione reached out a hand and grabbed his arm before he could perform the spell though.

"We can't use magic to get through the corn, it will be too hard to cover our tracks tomorrow," Hermione explained. "Harry you can use the _Diffindo _charm, and we can duplicate the corn tomorrow, but I don't want to reconstruct an entire field."

"I'll put up a few protective spells and finish when we get back," Hermione finished. She turned on her heel, with Ron following obligingly and they began to make their way through the corn.

"I daren't use any more magic to make this easier," she said after a large ear of corn slapped Ron in the face, "Since we aren't under any protection at the moment."

They had been winding their way through the corn for only five minutes and already they were covered in scratches and bruises, scraps of hay strewn in their hair. Ron, who was in the back, was taking the brunt of the beatings as all the ears Hermione had pushed aside, snapped back at him.

"Are we still going the right way?" Hermione asked, jumping to try and see over the top.

"Yeah, turn a bit west though, otherwise we'll end up on the farmer's doorstep," said Ron. Hermione tripped on the ground in front of Ron, causing him to stumble as well. Ron hurried over to help her to her feet. Suddenly a thought occurred to him.

"Get on my shoulders," he told her.

"What?" Hermione exclaimed in a high pitched voice.

"Clamor up, and then you can see over the tops and give direction, and I won't be viciously assaulted every time you take a step," Ron explained, offering his hand.

"But, you're arm-"

"It's fine."

Hermione looked rather hesitant, glancing ahead to see if the path was getting any easier.

"Merlin's pants Hermione! Just get up."

"Oh, alright," she resigned. Ron bent down and Hermione awkwardly tried to wrap her legs around his back.

"What're you doing? You can't be down there or you'll get twice the thrashing I'm getting, put your legs over my shoulders!" Ron moaned. Hermione looked even more reluctant at this set of instructions.

"Really Ron, I can manage perfectly fine like this," she said, but at that moment Ron grabbed her by the waist with his available arm and hoisted her over his shoulders. She let out a shriek of horror as a grackle of crows erupted from the corn in front of them.

"Ronald Weasley, put me down!" she called, looking frantically behind them, thrashing her legs wildly, managing to kick Ron in the face.

"Cop hold Hermione, and stay still," Ron said. After a few moments Hermione settled down, and wrapped her arms around Ron's head, still pouting.

Ron was finding the walking much easier, now that he could fully extend his longer legs without trampling on Hermione's heels.

"This is going to look extremely bizarre if the farmer looks out the window," Hermione complained, her voice carrying downwards. Ron grinned as they approached a clearing and broke into a run.

"Oh no! I don't like this at all, slow down Ron!" she yelled. Ron came to a sudden stop, nearly sending her toppling over his head. Hermione jumped down.

"Shh!" he said, peering out through the edge of the corn field and indicating an elderly looking farmer who had just stumbled out of the barn, carrying a bucket of manure in one hand and a pitchfork in the other. He was whistling as he returned to the house.

"Right then, on the count of three let's run to the barn," Ron whispered, Hermione nodded in agreement. The barn was a large red one, with chipped paint and white letters sprawled across its peak spelling out _McMillan's Farm. _

"One…two…three," Ron muttered, and both he and Hermione darted out from under their cover and dashed towards the barn. Hermione slipped between the barn door that was ajar and Ron followed.

They were standing in a barn filled with 100's of dairy cows, all chewing loudly on their cud. Hermione let out a groan.

"What?" Ron asked.

"These are dairy cows, they won't be of much use to us seeing as how they don't produce any food, only milk," Hermione explained.

"Well we can grab some milk in the least," Ron said, but Hermione shook her head.

"It won't be pasteurized."

"Oh c'mon, let's keep looking, there had to be something here to eat," Ron reassured her, as well as himself. They wandered through the back door the barn and found themselves face to face with a large chicken coop.

"Brilliant," said Ron grinning as he hurried to unlatch the cage.

Hermione reached in and gently moved the cooing hen aside, then reached for the pearly white egg that had been nestled beneath it. She slipped it into her pocket, after performing a cushioning charm, and slipped some money where the egg had been.

"What?" she asked, taking in Ron' quizzical look. "It'd be stealing if I didn't. I exchanged some of our wizard money for muggle money just incase a situation like this arose."

Ron gave a small shrug, knowing that contradicting Hermione would get him nowhere. They continued to gather up eggs until they had 4 of them, Hermione slipping coins down in place of the eggs.

"Let's look for something else now…perhaps a little less fragile," Ron said as they hurried back through the barn, Hermione half trotting to keep up. They were mid way to small vegetable garden when Hermione let out a yelp and pinned Ron against the side of the Farmer's house. Seconds later the old farmer whom they had seen before walked by and ducked into the barn once more. Ron and Hermione held their breath.

"Blimey," said Ron, sniffing the air. "That's smell good." He looked around for the source and noticed they were standing beneath the kitchen window to the house. Two steaming loaves were perched right on the sill to cool. Ron grinned at Hermione and pointed above them, but she shook her head.

"Absolutely not Ron, someone's worked hard to make those," she hissed.

"Yeah, and those hens worked hard making those eggs, but you didn't have any complaints then." Hermione glowered at him.

"C'mon 'Mione, we didn't come all this way for nothing did we?"

Hermione sighed, "I don't know why I let you talk me into this."

"Is it because you love me?" Ron joked, but he noticed that Hermione's cheeks turned pink as she reached up and grabbed the two loaves, replacing them with silver coins.

"Let's go," she said. And they plunged back into the field just in time, as the farmer came out and stared bemusedly at the place where they had just disappeared to.

"Want me to lift you up again?" Ron inquired, but Hermione shook her head.

"I've got the eggs; you don't want them to break do you?"

Ron took extra precaution to hold back the stalks when Hermione was behind him, so they didn't break the eggs. Ron was feebly resting the loaves of bread on top of his sling and using his free arm to muddle his way through the maze.

After what seemed like hours they finally staggered through into a clearing in the middle of the field, where smoke was being sent up as Harry prepared a fire.

Hermione muttered an incantation under her breath and the charms around the tent gave way, allowing them in.

"What'd you get?" asked Harry. Ron produced the loaves of bread, and Hermione withdrew the eggs from her pockets.

"Great," said Harry beaming at them, "Put the eggs in the frying pan." Ron plunked down the bread beside him and climbed into the tent to put on a pair of clean clothes, leaving Hermione to work her magic outside once more. Ron had just finished doing the button on his jeans when Hermione came in.

"Harry's making scrambled eggs," she informed him, walking over to her handbag and summoning her own clothes. Ron smiled, feeling a thousand times better now that he knew they had actual food waiting for them. Hermione brushed by him, heading for the washroom. He caught her arm and pulled a piece of straw out of her hair.

"Charming," she laughed, as he held it up to her.

Twenty minutes later they were all huddled around the small fire enjoying scrambled eggs on toast.

"It's not stealing is it? Not if I left some money under the chicken coop," Hermione asked in a troubled voice, turning to Harry as if for confirmation.

"Er-my-oh-nee 'oo worry 'oo much. 'Elax!" Ron rolled his eyes, his cheeks bulging. Harry starting laughing and eventually the all joined in, swapping stories about the past month's events, most involving comical stories involving Aunt Muriel at the wedding.

As the night wore on Harry agreed to take the first of the night's three watches so that Ron and Hermione could get some rest after their long walk through the field.

Ron and Hermione both climbed into their separate bunks and before either one of them could start a conversation they had drifted into sleep.

A/N: There will be another missing moment coming from this chapter as well, when Ron leaves so that's next on the agenda. Hope you all enjoyed this one, I certainly had fun writing it.


	6. Into the Night

The Basilisk Fangs: A Collection of Missing Moments

Summary: A collection of Missing Moments between Ron and Hermione throughout the Deathly Hallows.

Author's Note: Hello to all my readers. Today's missing moment is from the second half of the Goblin's Revenge, when Ron leaves. Lots of inner turmoil going on, and on the whole not a very fluffy or happy chapter. Once we get over this hurdle though, there will be many happy moments to come (after Hermione finishes beating on Ron of course).

Reader Responses:

**Be-heard**: Alas, my attempt at using 'Mione failed. I don't know why I did anyway; I hate it when people use it constantly in stories. I won't use it again.

**Born Jinxed (For Chapter 5): 3) **Hermione set the basic charms, but did not do some of the advanced ones, thus Harry was protected enough, and then she took them down again when they returned, and set up some new ones. **4) **Yes, Hermione was actually sitting on his shoulder, and as for how he got her up there with one arm…magic? Haha, I had written the scene already with him using both arms when I remembered he was injured and had to change it, but I still wanted her on his shoulders.

**Cabbage Rose**: I read it very fast too, that was the only time I skipped ahead in the book because I wanted to see when Ron's name appeared on the pages again-ahh page 302 haha (UK edition).

**Born Jinxed (For Chapter 4): 2)** Believe it or not, that was what J.K. Rowling wrote, not me. She says that Harry and Hermione half-carried, half-dragged Ron. But in POA they float Snape when he is unconscious. Perhaps they were worried about performing any more magic. **5)** Oops, I guess I was thinking Billycan in my head. **6)** The fact that Ron thinks about others is more of a realization of what Hermione values and cares about, and Ron sees how important it is to her and tries to make it important to himself as well.

And I don't mind your nit picking, I love getting longer reviews that point out the good and bad so I can work on things. Thank you for taking the time and effort!

_Chapter Six: Into the Night_

_Pop._

"Ow, Harry you're on my foot?"

"What?-Oh sorry!"

"Ron, watch where you put your hands!"

"It's not my fault, Harry's pinned me against you!"

"Don't blame it on me, randy bugger…"

"Would you stop with the bleeding pushing!?"

"I can't help it Ron, move over!"

After much consideration and debate, Harry, Ron and Hermione had apparated, under the protection of the Invisibility Cloak, into the Mayfair district of London in search of another one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. Ron knew that Harry sincerely doubted a Horcrux would be located at Tom Riddle's old orphanage, but having no other leads to go on, besides Harry's Hogwarts theory, they had packed up their tent and apparated into Portabellosquare on a Sunday afternoon, which by the looks of it seemed to be the busiest time of the week.

"Can we _please _take off this cloak," Ron complained. They were all severely hunched over and crammed together so as to fit under the cloak without exposing their ankles.

"Ron, we're surrounded by muggles, we can't just appear out of thin air," Hermione informed him, casting her eyes around nervously.

"Well then let's duck into that alley over there," Ron pointed.

"Where?"

"Over-just follow me," Ron moaned trotting towards a rather ramshackle alley, filled with crates and garbage cans.

The trio carefully shuffled towards it, only narrowly missing hitting an old woman carrying groceries.

Once in the shelter of the two buildings, they whipped off the cloak, gasping for breath.

"That's better," said Ron, patting down his hair.

"Harry, you best keep the cloak on," Hermione said, peering out of the alleyway.

Harry groaned, but did as instructed.

"Let's go." Hermione said as there was a break in pedestrian traffic.

Ron and Hermione hurried out, with Harry at their heels, covered by the cloak. A group of teenage boys sitting on the steps of a church across the street wolf whistled at them. Hermione blushed furiously and grabbed Ron by his shirt.

"Hurry up, will you?" she hissed. Ron heard Harry snicker underneath the cloak, and aimed a kick behind him. Harry was currently wearing the locket and had been in a bitter mood since he had awoken. Hermione was purposefully walking across the square in the direction of a large brown Georgian styled building.

"There," she said, "That's the library."

They climbed the steps leading up to it and walked into a large room, lined with oak bookshelves. It had cathedral ceilings and light was streaming in, highlighting the dusty books. Hermione wound her way through the aisles, finally stopping on front of a sign saying 'Records.' Ron watched curiously as she wrenched open a drawer on a filing cabinet and started shuffling through. After ten minutes of Hermione repeating the same activity in varying drawers, Ron lost interest and wandered over to a screen. He bent lower to examine it, and saw that there were several cubes stuck to a piece of plastic beneath the screen.

"Blimey, there's letters on here!" he marveled, looking around for Harry before remembering he was invisible. Ron tentatively touched one of the keys and was fascinated to see it appear in a small column on the screen. He called for Hermione, who came rushing over to see what he had found.

"What? Have you found it?" she asked, out of breath, clearly having run in her anxiousness.

"No, but look at this," and Ron demonstrated what he had just done.

"Very astute Ronald, it's a computer," Hermione huffed, giving him a look that suggested he better not ask what a 'computer' was. She marched back to the cabinet once more.

Ron sighed with frustration and followed Hermione to the table, where several manila folders and sheets of paper were strewn out.

"Where's Harry?" he asked.

"He's sitting right here, doing some research. Speaking of which, it would be a good idea if you'd help for once," Hermione said, shuffling papers aside. Ron sat down dejectedly and stared at the mess in front of him, before slowly pulling a pile towards him.

"Aha!" Hermione shouted, twenty minutes later. "Here it is, the Stockwell Orphanage," Hermione grinned, before pulling the paper closer and reading aloud.

"_The Stockwell Orphanage, located on 131 Vauxhill Road, was established in 1858 by the famous preacher Charles Spurgeon. Children from the ages of 1 to 14 were housed in this building until 1949. However in 1950 when it failed to meet the safety requirements, the Orphanage was sold to Trilax Building Corporation, and subsequently torn down the following year."_

Hermione's face fell after reading the last sentence and Ron heard Harry let out a sigh from underneath the cloak.

"Shall we have a look 'round anyway?" Ron asked, not eager to return to their moldy tent anytime soon.

"We might as well," said Hermione, standing up and putting the papers back into their assigned envelopes. They walked back outside into the square, which had emptied considerably now that the sun had gone behind the clouds.

"Perhaps we should get back under the cloak," Hermione suggested, looking warily around.

"Yeah," Ron swallowed eager to have an excuse to be close to Hermione again. "Good idea."

They crouched down behind a fence conveniently located by the library and wrapped the coat around themselves. Ron cringed, taking in a mouthful of Hermione's bushy hair.

"Hi Harry," Hermione muttered. Hiding under the cloak for so long didn't seem to have done Harry good. He was sweating and panting heavily.

They stumbled down the cobblestone path until they came to Vauxhill Road. Hermione took out the crumpled paper, staring down at the address she had scribbled across it.

"We should be close now," she said as they reached 127 Vauxhill. Ron's heart sank as he glanced ahead and saw an entire block of office towers.

"Merlin's pants," he moaned.

"We could try digging in the foundations," Hermione suggested half heartedly.

"He wouldn't have hidden a Horcrux here," Harry snapped from behind Ron, and as they all gave up hope simultaneously, Hermione grabbed their arms and they apparated into the purple moors.

For the following month they followed a strict routine of doing nothing. Ron was becoming increasingly agitated over this fact, and often sat around asking what they were going to do next. He was beginning to lose faith in Harry's leadership style, which seemed to involve a lot of sitting around on your arse while family members were in danger.

Ron's mood was not elating now that the summer months were turning into frigid autumn ones. Hermione, too, seemed to be less careful about concealing her displeasure.

One evening, after Harry had gone out to collect dinner, which would most likely consist of barely edible fungi and berries, Hermione approached Ron, who was sitting in his bunk, clicking his deluminator on and off.

"Last year at this time we were in Hogsmeade," she began.

"Yeah," Ron grimaced; reminiscing about Hogwarts was like looking into someone else's life. It seemed impossible that only a year ago they had all been knocking back Butterbeers in the Three Broomsticks.

"I wonder how Madam Rosmerta is," Ron said, which caused Hermione to frown.

"I mean, I doubt Snape has carried on with visits to Hogsmeade, business must be hurting."

"Yes imagine how _awful_ it must be for Madam Rosmerta, onlybeing able to flaunt herself in front of half her usual audience," Hermione said waspishly.

Ron looked down at her neck and was surprised to find that she wasn't wearing the locket.

"What's wrong with Madam Rosmerta," Ron asked.

Hermione's hair bristled. 'If you don't know I'm not going to tell you."

Ron stared bemusedly at her. Deciding a change of subject would be best he said

"So-er-what do you think of Harry's plan?"

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, sitting down beside Ron on his bed.

"I mean that we've been sitting around doing nothing the past month and aren't one bit closer to stopping Voldemort than we were at the Wedding," Ron fumed.

"We've got the locket-"

"And no means to do away with it," Ron interrupted, desperate for her to side with him for once, rather than running to Harry's defense.

"Well, I am a little disappointed. I mean, I thought he had a bit more to go on than his Hogwarts theory. But he is trying, even if you don't see it. He's up half the night discussing it with me."

Ron snapped his head up so fast he cricked his neck. So she was up half the night having cozy little chats with Harry was she? The feeling of being excluded plunged into Ron like a knife. What was it they were discussing that he was not privy to hear? Images of Hermione and Harry lying together in her bed flooded through Ron's brain.

Hermione seemed to guess that he was not entirely happy about this news.

"I mean, you fall asleep so fast that there isn't really a chance to go over anything," Hermione stammered. Ron stared down at the floor, repulsed by Hermione trying to cover up her sordid affair with Harry.

"I don't care what you do together," Ron lied, feigning nonchalance.

"Oh, alright then," Hermione said, looking flustered, "I just thought that-"

"Thought that I give a damn about you and Harry?" Ron jeered. "Why should I care what you two get up to at night."

"What do you mean?!" Hermione whispered, leaning in.

"If you don't know I'm not going to tell you," Ron said mimicking her words. Hermione's eyes watered dangerously, but before she could do anything about it Harry burst through the tent and stopped short.

His eyes narrowed at them suspiciously, giving Ron the impression that he guessed they had been talking about him. Ron rolled onto his side, away from Hermione, and she stood up abruptly and offered to help Harry prepare dinner.

The following week was the most tense the trio had been since Ron confronted Harry about his lack of a Patronus. Harry often busied himself collecting firewood, while Hermione continued on in her everlasting search for mushrooms.

After one particularly miserable day, Harry, Ron and Hermione were gathered around a small table in their tent, which they had pitched on a riverbank in Wales. Ron looked down dismally at the tin plate Hermione had placed in front of him. It was filled with a charred looking grey fish. He looked over at Harry's plate and was angered to see that Hermione had given Harry the less charred of the two, granted Hermione's looked to be worst of all.

"My mother," Ron said, eying Hermione, "can make good food appear out of thin air."

He pushed around the charred lumps of fish, not wishing to take another bite of the slimy substance. He wasn't about to praise Hermione for the rubbish she had given him, maybe, if she hadn't been spending all her time with Harry lately, he wouldn't have given her such a tough time about her lack of cooking ability.

"Your mother can't produce food out of thin air," Hermione snapped at him. "No one can. Food is the first of the five Principle Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfig-"

"Oh speak English, can't you?" said Ron, as he prised a fish bone out of his teeth.

"It's impossible to make good food out of nothing! You can summon it if you know where it is, you can transfigure it, and you can increase the quantity if you've already got some-"

"Well don't both increasing this, it's disgusting," said Ron pushing his plate away.

"Harry caught the fish and I did my best with it! I notice I'm always the one who ends up sorting out the food; because I'm a girl, I suppose!"

"No, it's because you're supposed to be the best at magic!" Ron shot back. He was sick of Hermione treating him like this, always expecting him to think the worst.

Hermione jumped up and bits of roast pike slid off her tin plate onto the floor.

"You can do the cooking tomorrow then, Ron, you can find the ingredients and try and charm them into something worth eating, and I'll sit here and pull faces and moan and you can see how you-"

"Shut up!" said Harry, leaping to his feet. "Shut up now!"

"How can you side with him he hardly ever does the cooking!"

_Typical_. Ron thought. Hermione was always so willing to be on the same side as Harry, always leaving Ron to fend for himself. He glared at them standing beside each other, opposite him. That's how it had always been, how could he forget? Last year, whenever he had tried to talk to Harry or Hermione they would speed up, and duck into the library, leaving Ron standing alone in the hallway. Or in fourth year, when Hermione would ditch him to go and help Harry focus on the three tasks of the Triwizard Tournament.

"Hermione, be quiet I can hear someone!" Harry hissed. Ron skulked closer to the opening of the tent, wand drawn, while Harry and Hermione discussed the enchantments she had placed. Then he heard it too, scuffling and voices were drawing nearer, Harry and Hermione approached the opening slowly, and they sat down to listen…

The voices turned out to belong to a small group of run aways, which included two goblins, Dick Cresswell, Ted Tonks and their old school mate Dean Thomas.

Harry and Hermione were now fervently consulting Phineas Nigellus's portrait to confirm what they had heard, while Ron flung himself into a lower bunk.

So Ginny had been sent in to the Forbidden Forest eh? Harry seemed to be simply elated at the fact that his sister had been put in immediate danger. 'Only the Forbidden Forest' he had said. Ron wondered how many other times this had happened while he, Harry and Hermione sat around, choking down leaves and bugs. Ron watched, out of the corner of his eye, Harry and Hermione huddling close together. Neither of them seemed to have noticed that he wasn't there, sitting beside them and nodding in agreement. They didn't even look in his direction, completely caught up in one another. Ron twirled the locket around his neck in anger.

Why wouldn't Hermione prefer Harry's company? Everyone else did…except perhaps Lavender Brown, although he was betting that had changed since they broke up. His own mother was always doting on Harry, never blaming him for a thing. And nothing on earth made Ginny happier then being wrapped in Harry's arms, listening to Harry talk about all the adventures he had been on, or complaining about Ron and his lack of Quidditch skills. Everywhere he turned someone was reminding him how accomplished Harry was, or how 'fanicable' he looked. He remembered Hermione telling Harry how tall he was, and how the scars on the back of his hand were attractive, while Ron sat to one side, ignored and discarded.

"So would he have hidden the sword away from Hogsmeade?" Harry was saying. "What do you reckon Ron? Ron?"

"Oh remembered me have you?" Ron scoffed.

"What?"

Ron snorted and turned his attention to the underside of the bunk, knowing if he looked away what little composure he retained would break.

"You two carry on. Don't let me spoil your fun."

Harry and Hermione were now shaking their heads at each other, silently discussing Ron's 'patheticness'.

"What's the problem?"

"Problem? There's no problem," Ron said, still avoiding eye contact. "Not according to you anyway." The wall of the tent was beginning to quiver. It was raining.

"Well you've obviously got a problem. Spit it out will you?" said Harry, Hermione trying to avoid giving her opinion. This enraged Ron further; he sat up and swung his legs off the bed.

"All right. I'll spit it out. Don't expect me to skip up and down the tent because there's some other damn thing we've got to find. Just add it to the list of stuff you don't know."

"I don't know?" repeated Harry. "I don't know?"

"It's not like I'm not having the time of my life here," said Ron, "You know with my arm mangled, and nothing to eat and freezing my backside off every night. I just hoped after we'd been running around a few weeks, we'd have achieved something."

"Ron," Hermione said quietly. Ron ignored her, pretending he hadn't heard her silent plea. He wasn't about to let her placate him again, not when she would run back to Harry a moment later.

"I thought you knew what you'd signed up for," said Harry.

"Yeah, I thought I did too," said Ron, recalling his initial thoughts of the three of them sitting around in the Leaky Cauldron, laughing and joking, with only one Horcrux left to destroy. Hermione holding his hand and telling him how brilliant he had been in killing Nagini.

"So what part of it isn't living up to your expectations?" asked Harry. "Did you think we'd be staying in five star hotels, finding a Horcrux every other day? Did you think you'd be home to Mummy by Christmas?" Harry jeered.

"We thought you knew what you were doing!" said Ron, standing up. "We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do, we thought you had a real plan!" Ron decided using 'we' would be a better choice than saying 'I'. He didn't care if Hermione had thought half those things, he wanted Harry to believe she had, he wanted Harry to know what it was like to have everyone against him.

"Ron!" said Hermione, louder this time, but Ron chose to ignore her again.

"Well sorry to let you down," said Harry, his voice quite calm, lording his maturity over Ron. "I've been straight with you from the start; I told you everything Dumbledore told me. And in case you haven't noticed, we've found one Horcrux-"

"Yeah, and we're about as near as getting rid of it as we are to finding the rest of them-nowhere effing near in other words!"

"Take off the locket, Ron," said Hermione in an unusually high pitched voice. "You wouldn't be talking like this if you hadn't been wearing it all day." Ron silently disagreed.

"Yeah he would," said Harry. "D'you think I haven't noticed the two of you whispering behind my back? D'you think I didn't guess you were thinking this stuff?"

"Harry, we weren't-"

"Don't lie!" Ron hurled at her. "You said it too!" Ron desperately clawed for a statement she had said against Harry. "You said you were disappointed, you said you'd thought he had a bit more to go on than-"

"I didn't say it like that- Harry I didn't," Hermione cried. Ron didn't care. He didn't want Harry to take her back in his good books, not when Ron was permanently cast out of them. He might as well bring Hermione down with him.

There was a moment of silence as Ron looked around; Hermione was crying soundlessly, tears pouring down her face. Ron's icy resolute almost vanished at the sight, but then Harry reminded him of their argument.

"So why are you still here then?"

"Search me," said Ron.

"Go home then," said Harry.

"Yeah, maybe I will!" shouted Ron, and he took several steps towards Harry, who did not back away. Ron longed to hit him, his wand entirely forgotten. Nothing would satisfy him more right now then feeling his fist come in contact with Harry's jaw.

"Didn't you hear what they said about my sister? But you don't give a rat's arse, do you? It's only the Forbidden Forest, Harry _I've-Faced-Worst_ Potter doesn't care what happens to her in there, well, I do, all right, giant spider and mental stuff-"

"I was only saying she with other-they were with Hagrid-"

"-yeah I get it you don't care! And what about the rest of my family, 'the Weasley's don't need another kid injured', did you hear that?"

"Yeah, I-"

"Not bothered by what it meant, though?"

"Ron!" said Hermione, forcing her way between them. "I don't think it means anything new has happened, anything we don't know about; think Ron, Bill's already got scarred, plenty of people must have seen that George's lost an ear by now, and you're supposed to be on your death bed with spattergroit, I'm sure that's all he meant-"

"Oh, you're sure are you? Right then, well I won't bother myself about them. It's all right for you two, with your parents safely out of harm's way-"

"My parents are _dead_!" Harry bellowed.

"And mine could be going the same way!" Ron yelled.

"The GO!" roared Harry. "Go back to them pretend you've got over you're spattergroit and Mummy will be able to feed you up and-"

Ron reached for his wand, and Harry followed suit. But before Ron could curse his mouth off Hermione had raised her wand and shouted 'Protego!'

An invisible shield formed between them and they were all sent a few steps backward, pinned by the force. Ron looked from Harry to Hermione, knowing things would never be the same.

"Leave the Horcrux," Harry said.

Ron wrenched the locket off his neck and threw it into a near by chair. He felt his anger subside slightly, but more overly, an overwhelming sadness had risen inside him.

He turned to Hermione.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you staying or what?"

"I…" she looked anguished. "Yes-yes I'm staying. Ron, we said we'd go with Harry, we said we'd help."

Ron took this as final confirmation. Somewhere inside him he felt his heart break.

"I get it. You choose him." Ron turned away from her and stormed out of the tent into the miserable night.

"Ron-no-please come back!"

He burst through the protective enchantments and the tent vanished from sight. The rain beat down on him, and mingled with the tears that were now sliding down his cheeks. He paused for a moment to see if Hermione would come after him, but when all that happened was that the rain beat down harder, Ron gave a half-hearted turn and vanished into the night.

A/N: Longest chapter yet. I know a lot of it was canon, but there weren't many missing bits towards the end, aside from Ron's thoughts, and this was a pivotal scene. Please continue to send in your reviews.


	7. This Little Light of Mine

The Basilisk Fangs: A Collection of Missing Moments

Summary: A collection of Missing Moments between Ron and Hermione throughout the Deathly Hallows.

Author's Note: I'd just like to say thanks once more to all whom reviewed, I'm actually quite surprised by the amount of feedback I have gotten. They have made the first two weeks without Harry Potter bearable. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed all the chapters, and again to new readers. This chapter will follow what happens after Ron leaves (Snatchers, Shell Cottage etc.) And by the way, am I the only one who thinks that "The Snatchers" is a completely dreadful title? It doesn't seem like something JKR would have come up with…not very inventive haha, just seemed sub par to me when I read it.

Reader Responses:

**Kurtle:** I'm glad you like it. I think it gives the chapter a bit more of authenticity (although it is a pain to check back to the book, I always have it in front of me and shove a pad of sticky notes in so I can flip to the pages quickly).

**Sweetiepie1019:** Thanks for the compliment, although I feel more pity for Ron in this bit than annoyance. Ron is an amazingly stubborn character, and full of self doubt. When he confronts Harry in this piece he's only voicing what they all feel, even Harry acknowledges this. But at the same time, you just want him to realize how much Hermione really does care for him.

**Josephina:** Yes, Hermione does run after Ron, but she is impeded by her own shield charm and doesn't get outside the tent until Ron has apparated. I imagine that she probably got there just as he was apparating, since I believe Ron hears her call for him at the last minute.

**Right or Ryn: **Ah I didn't notice that! I'm surprised you caught it haha. I'll have to remember not to use it again this chapter.

_Chapter Seven: This Little Light of Mine_

Ron knew the moment he disappeared outside the tent that he had made a mistake. He was standing in the heart of the Saddleworth Moor, sopping with water. He had unsuccessfully apparated into the middle of a bog, and his pants were soaked up to his knees with greyish water and tendrils of water plants were wrapped around his ankles. It was raining just as hard as it had been in the woods. He could barely make out the ripples of the rain on the water's surface. Ron reached for his Deluminator and clicked it. Orbs of light shot up into the sky and dangled over him.

Ron looked around in despair. He needed to get out of this treacherous bog and get back to the tent. He could make out a rocky shelf a few meters away and waded towards it, pulling himself free from the grasps of the leafy shoots. He hauled himself up over the edge of it, then hoisted up his rucksack, and got shakily to his feet, looking out over the gloom. He wished Hermione was there to dry out his clothes. He wished Hermione was there, he corrected.

There was a narrow road winding through the shallow hills, and Ron was surprised to see what appeared to be a lantern bobbing along in the night. He clicked his Deluminator off, and curiously made his way towards it. Perhaps it was Ted Tonks and Dean. The thought of being reunited with some familiar faces spurred him on. The group was talking noisily and the sound of clunking metal was coming from them, probably pots and pans. Ron moved closer, suddenly the lantern swung in his direction, and Ron saw that it was not a lantern, but a wand tip.

"Look 'ere Chuck, there's someone there," said a voice.

Ron could now make out the outlines of five boys, all looking roughly his own age.

"School age?" asked another voice, which seemed to come from the largest frame.

"Looks to be," grunted the first voice. "He should fetch 'bout 25 galleons."

Ron took a step back. Something seemed off about these people.

"What's 'e doing?" asked a third.

"He's backin' 'way from us!" said the scrawniest shape. "Reckon 'e's a muggle-born?" it asked excitedly. The fellow shapes nodded their heads anxiously.

The one with the wand suddenly apparated towards Ron and pointed his wand in Ron's face. The light obscured the owner's form even further and Ron reached for his wand.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" shouted a voice which had not yet spoken. Ron's wand flew out of his clasp and landed in an outstretched hand. Ron gulped. How the hell was he supposed to get himself out of this one? If Hermione had been there she would have concocted a brilliant plan by now, but with a stab of distress he remembered that she wasn't there. She was hundreds of miles away, in a warm tent, with Harry, not soaked from head to toe in the English Moors.

The other men rushed forward to surround him. Ron could now see the five faces clearly. None of them looked to be older than twenty and they all had the appearance of an unkempt rat. The one who had disarmed him was the largest of the five, and even that wasn't saying much, as he was barely taller than Ron. The other ones had shaggy hair and disorderly patches of beards on their faces. They were some of the scrawniest lot Ron had ever seen. Two of them grabbed hold of Ron's arms and pinned them behind him, while a third pointed his wand at Ron's throat. Ron wrinkled his nose, one of them smelled quite horribly of troll.

"So tells us, is yeh a muggle born?"

"A-a what?" Ron asked.

"Don't play dumb with us mate, what's yer name?"

Ron hesitated, racking his brain for a suitable name.

"Stan-Stan Shunpike," he said in what he hoped was a confident voice.

"Stan?" asked the man to his right. "Aren't yeh a-"

"A Death Eater, that's right," Ron lied.

The two men holding Ron loosened their grip and looked at the others confusedly.

The largest one blinked rapidly and then said in a puzzled tone, "If yer Stan Shunpike, what the hell are yeh doin' in the middle of Saddleworth?"

"I'm here strictly on You-Know-Who's business, and no offence mate, but that's confidential information which You-Know-Who doesn't want nosy little twits like you to know about," Ron said in an arrogant tone. Coming up with a life story was hard work, Ron thought.

This explanation seemed to convince only three of the five men. The captor to his left let go of him.

"'R you mad?" asked the one who still had a hold of him. "Yeh actually believe 'ese lies?"

"If 'e's working for Voldemort, I don't wanta piss 'im off," said the other.

The man who had stayed quiet for the most part now spoke.

"I thought Stan Shunpike was under the Imperius curse. S'what I 'eard anyway."

"I'm not under any on else's influence, I chose to serve the Dark Lord!" Ron said in a defiant tone, hoping this was they right way to go.

"Alright, Stan, if yeh really are who yeh say yeh are, tell me, what did yeh do before yeh joined ranks with the Death Eaters?"

Ron felt hope rise in him. "Worked on the Knight Bus, with Ernie Prang."

There was a murmuring among the men, and the one with the unpleasant smell, who was pointing his wand at Ron's throat, nodded his head, lowering his wand as he did so. Ron wondered why none of them had bothered to ask to see his Dark Mark, but then, they didn't strike him as the most intelligent people. However, the one behind him gripped him harder, and moved to stand behind him.

"Yeh know something Willie, yer thick as molasses. This kid is no more Stan Shunpike than I am," shouted one of the men.

"Yeh callin' me dumb, Chuck?" asked Willie, shoving Chuck backwards. The other three men turned to watch the fight that was unraveling before them. The men had begun shouting profanities at one another and scrapping on the ground. The one still holding him relaxed his grip, momentarily forgetting Ron was there.

Ron took advantage of this lapse in judgment and elbowed the one holding him in the stomach. He let out a groan of pain and Ron snatched his wand. He pointed it at the one who had his own wand clutched loosely in his hand, and disarmed him.

Before either of the men realized what had happened, Ron had disapparated.

Ron landed with a thud and let out a gasp of pain that was quite unrelated to being sprawled out on his backside in the middle of a forest. He stared down at his hand, which seemed to be where the pain was emanating from. Two of his fingernails had vanished; he had splinched himself once again. But this time Hermione wasn't there, kneeling by his side, fretting over him. He was alone.

Ron slowly got to his feet and examined his surroundings. The landscape looked similar to that of where they had erected their tent, but there was the disquieting absence of the rushing sound of a river. Ron knew he must be miles away from the riverbank.

He withdrew his wand and muttered "Point me" knowing that he had to travel due south to the river. The sky was beginning to lighten with the promise of morning and Ron felt his spirits rise with every step he took, knowing that it would bring him that much closer to Hermione.

Ron pushed bushes aside and ducked under low hanging branches which caught on his clothes. Burrs were piercing into his arms, and his pants were still damp with bog water. Fortunately the rain had ceased, and the sky was now a pleasant peach colour.

After an hour, Ron could make out the faint sound of the river and quickened his pace in anticipation. Thoughts of Hermione crying and running into his arms spurred him on. Even the thought of sitting around the fire with Harry gave him a new found drive.

The events of the previous night almost seemed surreal, and Ron could only think to rationalize his behaviour by blaming it on the locket, even though he knew that all his worries and thoughts had been there far before the locket had ever plagued him.

After another quarter of an hour he emerged on the riverbank and looked anxiously for the tent. He recognized a semi circle of birch trees that had been beside their tent and made his way towards it, expecting that the only reason he couldn't see the tent was because it was protected by the enchantments Hermione had put on it. He made his way towards the trees and cast his arms out in front of him, hoping to feel the familiar fabric of the tent. Ron's heart sank when he realized he had walked right through the place where the tent had stood. Ron gave a half-hearted flick of his wand and muttered "Homenum revelio" like he had seen Hermione do at Grimmauld Place. Nothing happened.

Ron looked around in despair. He felt so sure that if he could just make it back to the riverbank that everything would be OK. He walked over to the edge of the river and his knees gave way. After everything he had been through he wasn't one step closer to being reunited with his friends. They were still under the impression that he had completely abandoned them, and now they could be anywhere in Europe.

Ron's eyes were stinging with tears as he looked out over the muddy river. He knew he had to keep moving, that there was a good chance Death Eaters would be swarming the area by nightfall, but he couldn't bring himself to apparate anywhere, not when this place was the last connection he had had to Hermione. He dangled his legs over the bank and started debating his options.

He could return to the Burrow, disgraced and humiliated, and explain what had happened to his mother and father, along with the rest of his family. He could return to Hogwarts, inexplicably cured of his spattergroit. Or he could patrol the country and look for the Horcruxes on his own, and hope he ran into Harry and Hermione while he was at it.

None of these alternatives seemed exceptionally pleasing to Ron. The last one seemed the best, but even then the journey would be lonely and Ron wasn't sure if he could handle it. The hunt for the Horcruxes could take him anywhere; Albania, Bulgaria, France…

France! That was it! He could go to Bill and Fleur's new home, Shell Cottage. Sure they would be a bit disappointed in him, but nothing compared to the wrath of his mother. Bill would understand, and he wouldn't take the mickey out of him, not like Fred and George. And there was never anything unfavorable about being left in Fleur's company.

Ron scrambled to his feet, grabbed his rucksack, gave one last forlorn look over the riverbank and apparated.

He was standing on a windy hilltop. There was cool November breeze blowing in off the ocean and a small white cottage was visible, perched on the cliff overhanging the Atlantic. A small, rocky garden path led to the front door of the cottage, which seemed to be made of polished drift wood.

Ron walked uncertainly towards the door, shivering as the moisture ridden air whipped around him. He knocked gingerly on the door and waited for Bill or Fleur to answer his call. No one came; Ron rapped the door again, harder than before. After a few moments the door swung open, and he was greeted by the flowery sound of Fleur's voice.

"Bill, iz zat you?" Ron stood awkwardly on the doorstep, waiting for Fleur to realize she was mistaken.

"Ron? What are you doing 'ere? I saw your 'air and zought you must be Bill," Fleur said throatily.

"I-er," Ron didn't feel like discussing his situation with Fleur at the moment, not when Bill appeared to be away. "Where's Bill?"

"'E is at your Aunt Muriel's, making arrangements for zee move," explained Fleur.

"Well, come in, before you catch cold," Fleur ushered him over the threshold into the quaint little cottage. A fire of driftwood was crackling in the fireplace, and it appeared as though Fleur had been decorating for Christmas, large boxes of ornaments were scattered across the dining room table.

Ron sat down on a dove coloured love seat and Fleur did the same.

"Where are 'Arry and 'Ermione, I zought zat zey were with you?"

Ron felt his cheeks flush at his disloyalty.

"Er-we got split up," he said, hoping the half-truth would satisfy her for now.

"Are zey alright?" Fleur asked, concern colouring her voice.

"Yeah, yeah they should be," Ron muttered, wanting a change of subject. "When will Bill be home?"

"Any moment now, 'E will be 'appy to see you," Fleur pranced towards the window and pushed back the lace curtain to peer out. After a few moments she cried out and ran to swing open the door.

Ron could just make out his brother's long red hair, and scarred face before Fleur flung herself into his arms. "Guess who is 'ere?" She whispered into his ear, then let go and pulled him into the sitting room.

Bill's face changed from unabated happiness to shock.

"Ron! What's wrong? Where's Harry? Did something happen?"

"No, no they're fine," Ron hoped this was the truth. "We just got separated, and I couldn't find my way back to them."

Bill looked skeptical; he glanced at Fleur, no doubt trying to see if Ron had told her anymore, but she shook her head slightly.

"How-how did you get separated?" Bill asked. Ron groaned inwardly, what was it with family always asking the questions you didn't want to answer?

"We had a bit of a-a disagreement, and I thought it would be best if, you know, I took off for a while," Ron said, casting his eyes towards the floor.

"So you came here?" asked Bill, he did not seem to be content with Ron's explanation.

"Nah, I ended up in the Moors, I wanted to go back to-" Ron's voice caught in his throat for a moment. "-to Harry and Hermione, but before I could apparate I walked into a group of guys, can't be much older than me. They took my wand, and grabbed me; said something about selling me for 25 galleons. But I told 'em I was Stan Shunpike, and when they got into an argument about whether or not I was, I got my wand back and disapparated. I don't know what business the guys were in though-"

"Snatchers," said Bill sighing and sitting down beside Ron.

"Sorry?" Ron asked.

"Snatchers, they're gangs, they round up muggle borns and blood traitors for gold. They probably thought you were a muggle born who had run away from Hogwarts. You're lucky they didn't take you to the Ministry, you'd have been shipped off to Azkaban," Bill explained, looking more troubled than Ron. Fleur was pacing nervously in between the sitting room and dining room. "They're tracking Order members too, they've put a taboo on anyone who uses You-Know-Who's name, they figure that only people who are serious about combating You-Know-Who are going to use his name, and they're right."

"I knew there was something going on with that. Every time someone was about to use it this weird feeling would come over me…Well, anyway, by the time I had gone back to where we had pitched our tent, Harry and Hermione had packed up and gone, so I came here," Ron finished, knowing how cowardly his story sounded.

"Don't tell Mum and Dad," Ron added as an afterthought, he couldn't bear to see their reactions at his abandonment. Bill shook his head and pressed his hands together.

"I won't, Fleur and I were thinking about staying here for Christmas anyway, I'll just send an owl to Mum and tell her it's a for sure thing now, say we want to be alone on our first Christmas together," Bill stood up and headed into the kitchen where Ron could hear an owl hooting. Fleur waited a few moments before following Bill. He could hear them talking in hushed whispers, undoubtedly about his unexpected arrival.

Ron kicked his legs up onto the sofa and waited for them to reappear. He gazed out of the window and wondered where Harry and Hermione were, what they were doing. He felt a stab at his insides, longing to be with them; he wanted to watch Hermione pore over The Tales of Beedle the Bard once again.

Fleur came back into the room, interrupting his thoughts.

"We 'ave a spare room for you, come with me," and Fleur ascended the staircase into a small hallway. "It iz zee room with zee zeashells on zee door."

Ron muttered 'thanks' and made his way down the hall to the last door. He opened it in and strolled into a quaint room with white paneled walls and light blue carpet. A wide window looked out over the side garden, and a window seat was perched in front of it. The room was sparse when it came to furnishings, including only a bed, chest of drawers and an empty bookshelf; Ron smiled when he thought of what Hermione would say about it.

He threw down his rucksack onto the floor and lied down on the bed. Snow was beginning to fall outside his window, he watched as gusts of wind carried it to the peak of the roof, where it swirled around before breaking apart. He stared transfixed at this phenomenon for a few minutes before closing his eyes, allowing images of a girl with deep brown eyes, and bushy brown hair to take over his thoughts and dreams.

He was awoken from a particularly good dream, involving Hermione allowing him to demonstrate his wandwork for her, by Fleur shaking him gently.

"What?" he snapped, angry for having to leave the peaceful bliss of his dreams for a cold and harsh reality.

"We are 'aving dinner, you must each something," Fleur said stiffly, before retreating from the room. Ron sighed and sunk into his pillow. What on earth was he going to for the next month?

As it turned out, Fleur had numerous household activities to keep him busy, and his thoughts away from Hermione for the weeks leading up to Christmas. She had him cook and bake, against his will, and clean the house from top to bottom. The moment he had finished all the daily chores, Fleur would have him help her decorate the house for Christmas.

As it so happened, he was shooting tinsel from his wand on the evening of December 24th when Bill burst through the door.

"Quick tune the radio, _Potterwatch_ is on," Bill instructed, feverently pulling off his hat and gloves, and hurrying towards the small radio. Ron dropped his wand, which earned him a reproachful look from Fleur, and hurried to sit beside Bill.

"The password is Everlasting Icicle," Bill said, as he tapped his wand on top of the radio. It buzzed for a moment, before the voice of Lee Jordan came clearly out of the speakers, as though he was standing there in front of them.

"Merry Christmas to all our listeners out there, and to Harry Potter, wherever he is."

Ron felt disappointment creep over him, he had hoped maybe there was an update on their where abouts, but he was let down once more.

"We regret to inform you that Stewart Ackerly and his family were found dead in their home yesterday morning. Mr.Ackerly was thought to be hiding several muggle borns in his basement, whether or not this was true is unconfirmed. Order members searched the home, but found no evidence that muggle borns had in fact been living on the premises."

Ron excused himself, not wanting to spend another night listening to death announcements. He trudged up to his room and sank onto the bed. In his mind, he had imagined spending Christmas Eve in the tent with Hermione. Drinking eggnog, exchanging gifts, perhaps having a snowball fight, but instead he was stuck alone in a tiny bedroom, with a blizzard touching down in his wake. When he finally did fall asleep, it wasn't to the vision of dancing sugar plums, but to visions of Hermione lost in the blanketed wilderness, calling out his name hopelessly, before collapsing. He tossed about in his sleep, tears staining his pillow.

"It's a chilly -22 degrees this Christmas Morn', wouldn't want to be Father Christmas in this weather is all I can say Mable," came a voice.

Ron bolted up in bed and looked at the clock. It was 5 am, and his radio alarm had gone off. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and reached over to turn it off, when another sound filled the room.

"Remember Ron? When he broke his wand, crashing the car? It was never the same again, he had to get a new one."

"Hermione?" Ron choked. He shook the radio vigorously, before realizing that the anchors were still discussing the weather. He shut it off, and looked in the direction of the sound. It was coming from his pocket. _The Deluminator. _

Ron took it out and stared at it. It didn't seem any different, he waited for Hermione's voice to speak again, but nothing happened. He clicked it in frustration and the light in his room went out, and then another light appeared right outside his window. It was a bluish ball, and seemed to be pulsating. It floated in front of him, as if beckoning him to come with it. Ron knew what he had to do. He threw on his clothes, packed his rucksack and scribbled a note to Bill and Fleur. _This was his way back._

He dashed down the stairs and waded through the knee high snow into the garden. The ball of light was waiting for him, hovering meekly. As Ron approached it, it bobbed along through the garden, behind the shed. Ron didn't think twice before following it. The morning was still pitch black, and strangely calm. The windows of Shell Cottage were curtained, and even the ocean seemed quieter than usual. As he approached the light flew at him, going into his chest. It glowed there, surprisingly hot for a moment then continued to pass through. This was it, this was why Dumbledore had left him the Deluminator. The ball of light would lead him to the tent, all he had to do was disapparate. Ron turned on the spot, but this time only focused on the Deliberation and Determination, knowing that the bluish light would take care of the Destination.

He felt himself being twisted and rotated around, then everything began to ease and he was standing on the side of a snowy hill. Large sycamores stood at the base, their bare branches clothed in white, fluffy snow. Ron stayed perfectly still, straining his ears for the sound of Harry or Hermione, but all he could hear was the gentle falling of snow.

Hermione had cast her protective spells, meaning he wouldn't be able to contact them unless they came outside of the boundary. He sank down on the ground, knowing the only thing he could do was wait. He bundled his coat around him tighter, all his senses alert.

As the sun dipped down past the horizon, Ron pulled his sleeping bag out of his rucksack, determined to stay the night, hoping that morning would bring him better luck.

Unfortunately, by the next day there was still no sight of them, and Ron was forced to accept that they had moved on. He pulled the Deluminator out of his pocket once more and clicked it. The ball of light appeared in front of him once more, and he allowed it to pass through his chest, before apparating.

This time he was on a rather smooth plain of forest. It was snowing softly, and large fir trees were dusted in the sparkling flakes. Ron wouldn't be surprised if Father Christmas himself came strolling through the forest. There was a small clearing where Ron guessed the tent must be, and he made his way under the shelter of a grand spruce tree, to wait once more.

As darkness drew in once more, Ron was beginning to feel dispirited; to be so close to Hermione, and yet so far at the same time was very wearisome. Ron wondered who was acting as look out at the moment. He looked down at his gold watch to check the time, and then he saw it, just out of the corner of his eye, a silver stag. It was Harry's Patronus! He was about to chase after it when all of a sudden Harry appeared out of thin air, and began running after it. Ron felt his heart soar, and he tore off after his best friend.

A/N: And another chapter knocked off! I can't say this was my favourite. I like writing dialogue, but seeing as how Ron was alone most of the time…Plus, there couldn't be much fluff, since he was away from Hermione. Of course the next chapter in the book is pretty much the best of the entire book.


	8. Fire and Ice

The Basilisk Fangs: A Collection of Missing Moments

Summary: A collection of Missing Moments between Ron and Hermione throughout the Deathly Hallows.

Author's Note: Hey everyone, sorry about the delay for this chapter. I've been busy, and have come down with a case of writer's block, not to mention Eclipse came out on Tuesday so I've been hyping over that. This chapter is more so canon, and I don't want to have to write out every little bit, but I'll try and get the point across. Plus, I absolutely _love_ the line _"I still haven't ruled it out."_ When Ron mentions the birds. _Classic._ I remember reading it at like 5 in the morning, half delirious with lack of sleep, and finding it completely hilarious. But yes this chapter isn't really a missing moment, but everyone seems to want it done so I shall do it.

Reader Responses:

**ravenclawgirl94: **Ah yes, as for the minor details, I have Harry Potter Lexicon to thank, such a handy site. Whenever I forget something, or need to look up a time frame it's very helpful.

**Melodrome: **This chapter definitely had a different feel than the others, and it wasn't really one of my favourites. I miss writing dialogue. As for the previous three, the whole tent stuff gets repetitive, but hopefully I'll be able to do more with it once they go to the Malfor Manor/Shell Cottage. Thanks for reading.

**Mione:** Thanks! That really means a lot to me, and hopefully I'll get my chapters out fast. I try to update either every other day, or every two days.

**Born-Jinxed:** Ah! Long review haha, I'll try to answer as much as possible. **2)** Hermione grabbed Ron's shirt because she embarrassed at being heckled by the boys on the church steps, and wanted to get out of the alley. **5)** Yes, I realized when I was writing it, but the explanation is that Ron took for granted being so close to Hermione and misses it now haha. **11)** Yes, restrained is a better word **12)** I answered this one before, I imagine that Ron would have just heard Hermione calling for him while he was in the midst of apparating, since she was slowed down by her shield charm. **13)** I shall keep the truffles in mind. And by truffles do you mean chocolates or mushrooms? Haha **2)** The Deluminator provided light when they were in the cellar of the Malfoy Manor so it could, unless he had already taken the light from somewhere that I didn't notice. **3)** True true, I guess I was picturing Rupert Grint when I wrote that line, and he isn't exactly the tallest person. **8)** I agree. **12)** As I flipped through DH, JKR herself isn't always correct when using z's, sometimes she uses them, and then other times she doesn't, so I had difficulty writing Fleur. **15)** Ew, I can't believe I did that, normally I notice, I hate it when I do that! Haha.

_Chapter Eight: Fire and Ice_

After a few minutes of running, both Harry and the silver stag had vanished from Ron's view. He cursed and cast his eyes out over the gloom. The wood was deathly silent, even the wind seemed to cease. He strained his ears for the sound of Harry's footfalls, but for all he listened the forest may as well have been void of life. Ron couldn't believe it, he had lost Harry again, and what was worse, Harry could be in serious trouble. Ron was about to pull out his Deluminator when all of a sudden he heard a shout.

"_Diffindo!_" It was followed by a loud crack, not unlike the sound one made when apparating. Ron's blood coursed through his veins, as he ran in the direction of the voice. What if Death Eaters had apparated into the woods? Harry was well beyond the protective perimeter. He thought he had seen someone outlined between two trees, but credited it to his imagination. Ron picked up speed, sending pine needles showering to the forest floor as he brushed by the branches. Then he saw it.

A ghostly pond was glistening in the moonlight; its surface broken. Ron felt his heart relax, that explained where the crack had come from; Harry must have shattered the ice, but why Ron didn't know.

He hurried to the edge of the pond where he saw a pile of Harry's clothes sitting on a flat rock, his wand tip aglow beside them. Why would Harry have abandoned his wand, leaving him with no protection? He leaned over the pond and gazed through the broken ice flows into its depths. Something was thrashing beneath the surface of the pond. He could barely make out what it was, and it was only when he caught a glimpse of untidy black hair that he knew. Harry was grabbing at his neck, a silver sword suspended beside him. Ron didn't think twice, he dived into the icy pool and grabbed hold of Harry with one hand, and the hilt of the cross with the other. The cold water penetrated through his clothes like a thousand needles. Oxygen ceased to exist and it was all he could do to keep hold of Harry. After gulping in mouthfuls of frigid water, he mustered enough strength to haul them both to the surface, his head squeezing through the ice. He collapsed on the snow, sputtering and coughing, hoping to expel the cold and invite warmth into his body. Harry was beside him, barely stirring. Ron's shirt was plastered to him and his hair was matted over his forehead, where ice crystals were beginning to form. He took the sword and cut the locket from Harry's neck. This action seemed to revive Harry, he stirred slightly, and after a few moments began hacking and retching.

Ron shivered uncontrollably, his shirt now stiffening with ice.

"Are-you-_mental_?" Ron hadn't imagined those to be his first words upon their reunion, but under the circumstances they seemed very appropriate. Harry got shakily to his feet, and stared at Ron, a mixture of disbelief and confusion on his face, as though he half expected Ron to be some sort of mirage.

"Why the hell," panted Ron, holding up the Horcrux on its broken chain, "didn't you take this thing off before you dived?"

Harry didn't appear to have an answer. He reached for his clothes by the water's edge and roughly pulled them on. Ron watched him do so, desperately wanting to ask him about Hermione, but deciding the questions would have to wait until Harry regained his speech.

"It was y-you?" Harry said at last, his teeth chattering and his voice weaker than usual due to his near strangulation.

Ron thought this was an obscure question, but assumed Harry was referring to his rescue.

"Well yeah," said Ron.

"Y-You cast the doe?"

"What? No, of course not! I thought it was you doing it!" Ron said, feeling more confused by the minute.

"My patronus is a stag."

"Oh yeah, I thought it looked different. No antlers," Ron said. He was hoping Harry would suggest going back to the tent, but instead he returned to pulling on sweaters, finishing by putting Hagrid's moleskin pouch around his neck.

"How come you're here?" Harry asked. Ron fixed his eyes on the ground, knowing this was going to be one of the many awkward moments to come.

"Well, I've-you know-I've come back. If-," he cleared his throat. "You know. You still want me." There was a pause; Ron looked cautiously up to see Harry's reaction. His glasses were askew and his mouth was slightly ajar, but on the whole his demeanor didn't seem to be unfriendly. Ron looked down at his hands, and was momentarily surprised to see the sword of Godric Gryffindor clasped in his left hand.

"Oh yeah, I got it out," he said, holding it up for Harry's inspection, "That's why you went in. Right?"

"Yeah," he confirmed "But I don't understand. How did you get here? How did you find us?"

"Long story," said Ron, and he gave a brief retelling of his travels, saving the details for when he met up with Hermione. He was about to enquire about her where abouts when Harry spoke again.

"Did you see anyone else?"

"No, I-"Ron glanced towards two trees "I did think I saw something move over there, but I was running to the pool at the time, because you'd gone and in and you hadn't come up, so I wasn't going to make a detour to-hey!" Harry had taken off towards the two trees and was now examining their bases. After the search produced no results of who the mysterious figure was, Harry returned to the pond.

"So how did the sword get in that pool?"

"Whoever cast the patronus must have put it there," Harry muttered, half to Ron, half to himself.

"You reckon this is the real one?" asked Ron, weighing the sword in his hands.

"One way to find out, isn't there?"

Harry raised his wand and shed light over the dark forest. Ron thought something seemed different about the wand.

"Hey, isn't that Hermione's wan-"

"Come here," Harry commanded, dashing Ron's attempt at introducing Hermione into the conversation.

Harry was feverishly brushing snow off a flat rock lying in the shadow of a sycamore tree. Ron held out the sword to Harry, eager for the Horcrux to be destroyed once and for all.

"No, you should do it."

Ron's eyes widened slightly as doubt overwhelmed him. "Me? Why?"

"Because you got the sword out of the pool. I think it's supposed to be you," Harry said, looking at Ron expectantly.

Ron scoffed in disbelief and took a small step back. Harry was still waiting patiently by the rock. "Come on, let's just finish up here, then we can get back to the tent," Harry said, a knowing look in his eyes as he waved the offer in front of Ron like bait.

Ron caved, and gripped the sword tighter, ready to do away with the item that had been the root of his problems.

"I'm going to open it," said Harry. "and you stab it. Straight away OK? Because whatever's in there will put up a fight. This bit of Riddle in the diary tried to kill me."

"How're you going to open it?" Ron asked feeling terrified.

Harry muttered something about using Parseltongue.

"No!" Ron spat, his voice unnaturally shrill. "No, don't open it! I'm serious!" A wave of dread had suddenly washed over him again, and he was now acutely aware of the vibrations the serpentine locket was making.

"Why not? Let's get rid of the damn thing, it's been months-" Harry said, kneeling beside the rock.

"I can't, Harry! I'm serious you do it-"

"But why?"

"Because that thing's bad for me," said Ron backing away from the rock. "I can't handle it! I'm not making excuses Harry, for what I was like, but it affects me worse than you-" Ron paused; a vice like grip seemed to have taken hold of his vocal chords. "-you and Hermione it made me think stuff-stuff I was thinking anyway, but it made everything worse, I can't explain it, and then I'd take it off and I'd get my head on straight again, and then I'd have to put the effing thing back on-I can't do it, Harry!" Ron finished, exasperated. He backed away, dragging the sword and shaking his head. He wanted to get back to Hermione; he wanted to wrap his arms around her, to fall asleep beside her. He would have been perfectly content to never lay eyes on the cursed locket again.

Harry was voicing words of encouragement from where he was crouching. Ron looked around desperately for an alternative way to destroy that piece of Voldemort's soul, but the heavy winter air offered no help. And it was in that small clearing that Ron came to the realization that the only way he would ever be able to return to the tent, was to destroy the locket, no matter what impediments were in store.

He closed his eyes, and breathed in the frosty air, cocking his head slightly as he did so. He pictured himself bursting through the tent flaps, the broken locket swinging triumphantly at his side, and Hermione throwing her arms around his neck, lamenting all her worries to him.

"Ron?" Harry asked. Ron opened his eyes to see Harry looking expectantly at him. He gave a slight tilt of his chin, to confirm that he had made up his mind.

"Tell…tell me when," he whispered. The night seemed to intensify with those final words, Ron braced his entire body as though preparing for a blow. The hilt of the sword was clutched so tight in his hand it was beginning to make his palm raw.

"One…two…three…_open."_

The glass windows to the locket swung open and a flash of deep brown poured out. It took Ron a moment to realize that he was in fact staring into the eyes of Tom Riddle.

He raised the sword over the fragile glass, prepared to strike.

"Stab it," Harry instructed, holding the locket steady on the rock. Ron locked eyes with the locket once more, and found his entire frame falter.

"_I have seen your heart and its mine." _A voice from the locket hissed. Ron's grip on the sword slackened as he stood aghast fixated on the locket and the voice that was now emanating from it.

The locket launched into another haunting speech, expressing all of Ron's deepest fears. The sword point trembled as he stared into the depths of the locket, he couldn't look away, he couldn't cover his ears, it was as though the voice was exploding from every fiber of his being, utterly surrounding him.

"_Least love always, by the mother who craved a daughter…least loved, now, by the girl who prefers your friend…second best, always, eternally overshadowed."_

Ron's throat constricted, as he stared hypnotically through the golden doors. Harry's voice sounded distant, and the task at hand lay forgotten. All that mattered to Ron now was the locket. The thought that the locket could be lying never crossed Ron's mind as he stood there dismally. What had been the point of coming back? To have his fears confirmed that Hermione preferred Harry? To know that no matter what he did, Hermione would still be devotedly in love with Harry, the Chosen One, for the rest of eternity? And as he watched, transfixed, two grotesque bubbles bloomed out of the locket's windows, out of Tom Riddle's eyes. Ron yelped in horror and staggered backwards. The bodies of Harry and Hermione, strangely distorted, were blossoming out of the locket, towering above both Ron and the real Harry.

Ron gazed mesmerized into the Riddle-Hermione's face, which was more beautiful, yet more terrifying than the actual Hermione.

"_Why return? We were better with you, happier without you; glad of your absence…we laughed at your stupidity, your cowardice, your presumption-"_

"_Presumption?" _echoed the Riddle-Hermione, and Ron returned his attention to her horrifying ghostly face once more. She swayed before him, cackling, her eyes alight with malice. The sword hung pointlessly at his side, as he waited for her to continue.

"_Who could look at you? Who would ever look at you, beside Harry Potter? What have you ever done, compared with the Chosen One? What are you compared with the Boy Who Lived?"_

Ron felt his poorly sewn heart unravel at her words. Tears welled in his eyes as Hermione taunted him, coiling herself around Harry, their hair swirling like flames. The actual Harry lay discarded on the side lines, having let go of the locket that was burning white hot. Ron yearned to reach out and touch Hermione, but feared he would find the warm, solid surface of her hand, rather than a ghostly mirage. Their voices lifted in an evil duet again.

"_Your mother confessed,"_ sneered Riddle-Harry, while Riddle-Hermione jeered, _"that she would have preferred me as a son, would be glad to exchange…"_

"_Who wouldn't prefer him, what woman would take you? You are nothing, nothing to him," _crooned Hermione. She turned to Riddle-Harry, and entwined herself around him, wrapping him in a close embrace; their lips met.

Ron felt his blood surge through his veins at the revolting display, it felt hotter than fire as it stimulated the hairs on his arms, it burned its way to his face, and lastly into his eyes where his emotions overwhelmed him. He raised the hilt of the sword high, and for the first time tore his eyes away from the illusions and looked at Harry. His eyes burned scarlet, as he locked eyes with the figure that he had just seen wrapped around Hermione.

"Ron-?" Harry stuttered

Ron turned away, and brought the sword crashing down through the glass windows of the locket. The metal clanged, followed by a long-drawn out scream as the Riddle-Harry and Hermione were destroyed, free of their golden imprisonment, but unable to survive without it.

Ron stood there, breathing heavily, as images of the specters kissing haunted his thoughts once more. The wood regained its innocence, snow began to fall again, and the hooting of owls returned. Tears started streaming down Ron's cheeks; he looked away from where Harry was struggling to stand, hoping to regain his composure before Harry saw him. Footsteps beside him told him he was too late, and with a clatter he dropped the sword, and sunk to the ground, burying his face in his arms.

Sobs racked his body; Hermione would no doubt be disappointed after she heard about this pathetic display. Her fiery pupils were still burned into his mind, and he became steadily sicker every time he replayed her final act before she was destroyed. He longed to be back at Shell Cottage, brooding over Hermione, rather than cradled in front of Harry, crying about her. He felt a comforting hand grip his shoulder; Harry had knelt down beside him.

"After you left," he said in a low voice, Ron kept his face turned away, not trusting himself to look up, "she cried for a week. Probably longer, only she didn't want me to see. There were loads of nights we never spoke to each other. With you gone…" Harry's voice strained as he came to a stop. Ron felt a pang in his stomach, and tried to restrain a new wave of tears from crashing over him. But this time he wasn't sure whether they would be from sadness or relief.

"She's like my sister," he went on. "I love her like my sister, and I reckon she feels the same way. I thought you knew." Harry's final words placated him entirely. He lifted his head slightly, but turned away from Harry to wipe his eyes on his sleeve. The crunching of snow told him Harry had got to his feet, and after a few moments Ron did the same.

Harry had swung Ron's rucksack over his shoulder, and was now waiting patiently a few meters away. When he saw that Ron had clambered up he returned to stand by his side.

"I'm sorry," Ron said in a thick voice, "I'm sorry I left. I know I was a-a-"

Ron looked around in the darkness, as if hoping a bad enough word would swoop down in the darkness and claim him.

"You've sort of made up for it tonight," said Harry. "Getting the sword. Destroying the Horcrux. Saving my life."

"That makes me sound a lot cooler than I was," Ron mumbled.

"Stuff like that always sounds cooler than it really was," said Harry. "I've been trying to tell you that for years."

And for the first time in weeks, Ron felt the familiar tug of a smile play at his lips. Simultaneously they walked forward and hugged, Ron patting the back of Harry's sweater.

"Now all we've got to do is find the tent again," Harry said as they broke apart. And this time Ron's face broke into a full grin.

They walked companionably towards the path that they thought they had taken. Ron tugged nervously at his wet clothing, and attempted to smooth out his hair. He heard Harry snicker, not altogether unkindly, but with a knowing look in his eyes.

"I reckon it's just 'round this bend," Harry said, hoisting the rucksack up further. Ron rubbed furiously at his cheeks once more, hoping to rid any evidence that he had been crying. His blood was screaming inside him in anticipation. After months of waiting, he was going to see her again, and suddenly he wouldn't trade places with anyone in the entire world.

As they made their way out of a thick patch of trees they saw the familiar fabric of the tent. Ron didn't think that the most expensive castle in the world could look more inviting. Harry entered first, while Ron lagged behind him a little. As he ducked through the tent flap, he saw Hermione's hair peeking out from the top bunk. Harry walked over to her and shook her lightly. Ron stood nervously by the entrance, dripping onto the threadbare carpet.

"_Hermione,"_ Harry whispered. She stirred, and then sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. "What's wrong Harry? Are you alright?" she asked anxiously. Ron's heart purred as he listened to her voice, waiting for it to greet him.

"It's OK. Everything's fine, more than fine, it's great. I'm great. There's some here." Harry said, keeping his voice low, but unable to hide the smile domineering his face.

"What do you mean? Who-"

She broke off, her eyes falling on Ron. She was more beautiful than he remembered, even in her sleep like state, and he didn't know how he could have ever thought that the Riddle-Hermione was better looking. She was perfection, and he could barely keep himself from running to her and crashing his lips against hers.

She slid off the bunk, not even bothering to climb down the ladder, and fell lightly to the floor; her eyes never deviating from his. She walked like a sleepwalker towards him, her eyes roaming his pale face. She stopped in front of him, and her lips parted. Ron thought for a moment she was going to kiss him, he gave her a small hopeful smile, half raising his arms. Then her eyes darkened, and she launched herself towards him, pounding her small fists against every inch of him.

"Ouch-ow-geroff! Hermione-OW!" Ron yelped, as she hit him, quite literally, below the belt.

"You-complete-_arse_-Ronald-Weasley," she roared, executing every word with a blow to his chest. Ron backed away, shielding his head with his arms, fearing she would turn her attention there next.

"You-crawl-back-here-after-weeks-and-weeks-oh, _where's my wand?" _she said exasperatedly. Her eyes fell on Harry, who was half hidden in the fabric of the tent, and she looked ready to wrestle it out of his arms. Luckily, he was faster than her.

"_Protego,"_ he said, and an invisible shield erupted between Ron and Hermione, knocking Hermione down. She leapt to her feet, spitting hair out of her mouth. Ron didn't feel the least bit fearful, even though he knew very well that he should, instead he found Hermione's performance oddly endearing.

Harry was attempting to calm Hermione down, who was refusing adamantly, and attempting to get her wand back.

"Don't you dare tell me what do to Harry Potter!" she screeched. "Don't you dare! Give it back now! And YOU!" she rounded on Ron, pointed her arm at him. Ron retreated several steps, more so to protect his hearing than anything else.

"I came running after you! I begged you to come back!"

"I know," Ron said, and he sighed with guilt. "I didn't hear you until I was half gone-I'm sorry-"

"Oh! You're _sorry_!" she let out a peal of unnatural, high pitched laughter, and Ron was disturbed to find it reminded him of Bellatrix. Ron looked at Harry for help at this bizarre outburst, but he shrugged helplessly.

"You come back after weeks-_weeks_-and you think it's all going to be all right if you say sorry?"

"Well what else can I say?" Ron shouted, launching himself as close to Hermione as the shield would allow.

"Oh, I don't know!" yelled Hermione, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Rack your brains, Ron, that should take only a couple of seconds-"

And Ron sighed, defeated. He knew what she wanted to hear, but he wouldn't say it, not here, not with Harry watching, not when Hermione would always wonder whether he only said it to appease her.

"Hermione," Harry interjected, helping to avoid what would have been a discomforting silence. "He just saved me-"

"I don't care!" she screamed. "I don't care what he's done. Weeks and weeks, we could have been _dead _for all he knew-"

"I knew you weren't dead," Ron bellowed, his emotions getting the better of him. Did she really think that he hadn't thought about her safety every bloody moment of every bloody day?! "Harry's all over the _Prophet_, all over the radio, they're looking for you everywhere, all these rumors and mental stories, I knew I'd hear straight off if you were dead, you don't know what it's been like-"

"What's it been like for _you_?" Hermione's voice was now so shrill, only bats would have been able to hear it.

"I wanted to come back the moment I Disapparated, but I walked straight into a gang of Snatchers…" and Ron began to recount his journey to Hermione, who sat in an armchair, feigning disinterest, and only opening her mouth to make snide remarks. The only time her icy resolute faded was when Ron mentioned her voice coming out of the Deluminator, and she blushed scarlet after he told her what he had heard her say about his wand.

Ron finished by telling her of the destruction of Slytherin's locket, hesitating at the part where the Horcrux opened, when thankfully Harry stepped in, and gave her a much edited rendition.

"And-and it went? Just like that?" she whispered.

"Well it-it screamed," said Harry lamely, with a half glance at Ron. "Here," he threw the broken locket into her lap; gingerly she picked it up and examined the shattered windows.

Harry glanced between Ron and Hermione, and with a wave of his wand the shield charm was gone. Ron felt the bonds break away and smiled to himself, knowing it would only be a matter of time before he would be able to touch Hermione again. He watched her looking at the locket in concentration, he felt himself slipping away into a daydream…

"_Ron?" Hermione asked tentatively. Ron opened his eyes to see Hermione standing before him, clad only in her short summer night dress._

"_What time'z'it?" he grumbled, disoriented._

"_2 o'clock. Harry's asleep," she replied, measuring his face carefully._

"_What are you doing?" Ron asked, suddenly more interested in what she had to say if it was under those terms._

"_I wanted to apologize…for hitting you," she began, sitting down on his bed. Ron sat upright, but she gently pushed him backwards. _

"_It's fine," he muttered. _

"_No, it's not, I hurt you, and I didn't mean to," she whispered. Before Ron realized what she was doing, she had climbed on top of him, and was straddling his hips. Ron was captivated by the new found boldness in her eyes._

"_Are you bruised?" she whispered in his ear, tantalizing him._

"_Yeah," he said hoarsely. _

"_Let me see," she said, not actually asking for permission. She was tugging up his shirt, and he made no move to stop her. He saw her eyes widen as she took in his chest and abs, which were covered in faint blue, fist shaped marks. She lightly traced them with her fingers, smiling to herself. Ron closed his eyes, breathing heavily._

"Did you just say you got away from the Snatchers with a spare wand, Ron?" Hermione's voice broke him out of his reverie.

"What? Oh-oh yeah," he stuttered, feeling the blush creep into his cheeks. He strode over to his rucksack, eager to hide his face, and pants. It took him an unnecessary amount of time to extricate the wand from its pocket. He turned around, once his blood was circulating properly again.

"Here. I figured it's always handy to have a back up," he muttered.

"You were right," said Harry. "Mine's broken."

"You're kidding?" said Ron, but at that moment Hermione rose to her feet, looking apprehensive again and tucked the locket into her beaded bag. Ron smiled at the familiar pouch, and stared contentedly around the tent. Hermione let out a small "hmph" and crawled into the top bunk without a word. Ron grinned sheepishly at Harry and passed him the wand.

"About the best you could hope for, I think," murmured Harry.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Could've been worse. Remember those birds she set on me?"

"I still haven't ruled it out," came Hermione' muffled voice form underneath the blankets. Ron grinned in spite of himself, as he pulled his maroon pajamas from his rucksack. He knew that tonight would be the best sleep he'd had in months.

**A/N:** Alright, there we are. Again, sorry for the delay, but I seem to be over my writers block for now. Anyone else read Eclipse yet? I notice that some of my reviewers seem to be fans of the series. I actually got the chapter title from it, since there's the icy pond, and Hermione' fiery temper. Well hope you all enjoyed it.


	9. Author's Note

Alright, well here is my "Author's Note". I've refrained from doing one because typically fan fiction says they don't want you to have an entire chapter like this. I'm sorry to get everyone all excited thinking that this is an actual chapter. I have responded to a few people individually about the story, but now I'll address everyone as a whole. Basically I have been insanely busy at school the past three months, the workload is insane. Not to mention, I have an addictive personality, in which I become extremely obsessed with something and then it fizzles out and I move to the next thing. So has happened with Harry Potter while writing the story, I discovered how to make clichéd music videos on youtube with my other favourite books-Twilight series, thus I became addicted to that, and no longer felt like writing. I do hope to get another chapter up soon (like month soon)

, this story won't go unfinished, sooner or later I'll become obsessed again and we will return to weekly updates. Thanks again!

-Gloria


End file.
